


Two Many Guides

by LadyRa



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRa/pseuds/LadyRa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a new cop at Major Crimes, and she's read Richard Burton and has been looking for a Sentinel of her very own for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Many Guides

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  It all belongs to whoever the heck owns Sentinel. And that's not me. Except when I go off my meds, then I'm sure they belong to me. Don't they?  
> To all my fab betas without whom this story would be a shadow of its present self: Morr, Trish, Jenn, and Hawthorn. I needed a lot of help with this one and am still using make-up to hide all the bruises from being slapped around. LOL. Seriously, this is a much better story because of them. And a special thanks to Lili, who won this story in the Moonridge Auction. Her donation will help to take care of animals in need.  
> 

"I'm sorry Jim, I don't have any choice. It'll just be until Huntington gets back from his leave of absence." 

"Simon--" 

"There's nobody else. She needs to get oriented to Major Crimes and she needs a partner to do that; you're the only one who doesn't have a partner. Guess what? You win." 

Jim let out an exasperated sigh. "Sandburg's my partner." 

Simon snorted. "I mean an official partner. Sandburg's just an observer, and on a pass that's been expired for a year." 

The muscle of Jim's jaw began to twitch. "I need Sandburg. How the hell am I supposed to do the--" he leaned in closer to Simon, "--the Sentinel stuff without him?" 

"I'm not saying that you have to keep Sandburg away. She can work with both of you." 

"And hope that she's deaf, dumb, and blind, and somehow doesn't notice what I can do?" 

"You've worked with other cops from Major Crime on cases before and no one seems to have bought a clue. Why should she be any different?" Simon glared at Jim. "Besides, I'm not listening to you anyway. This isn't open for discussion." 

"Shit." 

"I'm going to assume you just said, 'yes, sir'. And I expect you to be on your best behavior." Simon gave him a look that indicated that he didn't have much faith in Jim's ability to be on his best anything. 

"When is she due?" Jim asked through a clenched jaw. 

Simon looked at his watch. "In about 45 minutes." 

Jim gave Simon a look. "Thanks for the notice." 

"And have you sulking around here for days? I don't think so." 

"I do not sulk." 

Simon let out a snicker. "Sure. And Sandburg doesn't talk too much." He sat down and gestured at the door. "Get out of my office. You wear me out." 

Jim tried one more time to glare at Simon, but Simon ignored him, organizing piles of paper with a vengeance. Jim fisted his hands, let out another sigh, and walked out of Simon's office. Walking over to his desk, he tapped Blair on the shoulder. "Let's go get some lunch." 

Blair flashed him a confused look. "It's only 10:15 in the morning." 

Jim glared at him, hoping it would be more effective than the glare he'd shot his boss. "Let's go get some lunch," he repeated, a significant lack of patience in his tone. 

Blair stood. "Fine, fine. Don't have a cow. Let's go get some lunch." He shrugged into his coat. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" 

Jim fixed Blair's collar and then put his own coat on. "There's nothing wrong." 

Blair's lips pursed. "Right. You're just grinding your teeth because you want to help your dentist put that new addition on his house." 

"Just move it, Sandburg." 

Blair jogged a little to catch up with Jim. "I don't know why you do this. You always think it's a good idea to keep all this stuff bottled up, but one of these days you're gonna explode and it is gonna be messy." He mimicked an explosion with his hands and grinned up at Jim. 

Jim whacked him on the back of his head and then prodded him out the door. 

* * *

Blair frowned. "He's giving you a partner? What about me? Don't I count?"

Jim parroted Simon. "She needs to get oriented to the department, to do that she needs to have a partner, and I'm the only one who doesn't have one." At Blair's disgruntled look, he held up a hand to stop the complaints. "Official partner, cop partner. You know what I mean." 

Blair ran his fingers through his hair, scissoring through a couple of tangles. "All right, all right. We'll just have to be careful. It's just a couple of weeks, right?" 

"Just until Huntington gets back from his medical leave. Then she'll get paired with him." 

Blair beat out a tattoo on the table with the fingers of his right hand. "Okay. We can do this. We've worked cases with other people before. We can pull this off. You just need to be, you know, discreet. You'll need to think about what you're doing, what it might look like." 

"Shit. I can't believe Simon's doing this. How am I supposed to work this way, if I can't just do what I do without thinking it all through first?" 

Blair grinned at him. "Hey, thinking might be good for you. It might, I don't know, it might show you what you've been missing." 

"Ha ha. You're killing me here, Sandburg." 

Blair let out a chuckle and took a big bite out of his sandwich. 

* * *

Blair let out a silent appreciative whistle when he saw who Jim was going to be partnered with. She was exactly Jim's type. Tall and leggy, shoulder-length auburn hair with blonde highlights, big brown eyes. Blair gave her another look, saw the way she was taking in the room, could almost see her rake her eyes over everyone and quickly dismiss them. Yup, definitely Jim's type--beautiful with a touch of bitch.

Jim waved impatiently to Blair, and Blair obediently joined him. "Diana Highston, this is Blair Sandburg. He's my partner." 

Blair flashed a nice big grin and held out his hand. "Welcome to the nut house." 

She gave him a quick smile in return and, even though she hesitated for a moment, shook his hand. "I thought you were an observer." 

"I am." 

Jim spoke at the same time. "He is, but I've gotten used to working with him." What was not spoken, but clearly heard, was how he didn't really want to get used to anyone else. 

Blair barely managed not to smack his partner. Jim was doing his usual not-rolling-out-the-welcome-wagon routine. That meant for sure that the two of them would end up in bed within a week, and she'd probably end up trying to kill Jim the next week. Blair made a mental note to himself to mark two weeks from now on his calendar so he could keep a watch on Diana. 

Hopefully the police did criminal background checks on their own, but you could never be too sure. Blair decided to try to be friendly. "So, what brought you to Cascade?" 

She frowned. "Not the weather." 

Blair bit his bottom lip. Great. Two grumps to work with. He tried again. "We're glad to have you on board. The police department needs more women to help balance out the testosterone." 

Diana gave him a look and turned back to Jim. 

Blair rocked on his toes and back. Okay. That went well. Not. She obviously had a few Y-chromosomes hiding in her genes and was a little defensive about it. 

Jim sat down at his desk, a pile of case folders in front of him. Diana followed suit and sat down in Blair's chair. Jim frowned at her. "That's where Sandburg sits." 

Blair put up his hands to stop this train wreck of a conversation before it went up in flames. "Whoa. That's all right. Plenty of chairs to go around." He moved to H's desk and grabbed the extra one there. 

As he dragged it over he heard her ask, "If he's just an observer, why does he need to be here while you review the case files?" 

Blair gamely finished dragging his chair over, thinking he'd have to call Huntington and find out how long he was going to be out. Maybe he could bribe him into coming back faster. He spun the chair around and straddled it, his arms balanced on the back. Answering Diana's question, Blair wagged his index finger between Jim and himself saying, "Jim and me, we're sort of a package deal." 

Jim nodded. 

Blair gave him a moment but then realized that was going to be Jim's contribution to the awkward moment. Finding his sense of humor all of a sudden he quipped, "I'm the one who actually talks." 

He was relieved to see that got a bit of a smile out of Diana. Maybe she wasn't a completely hopeless cause. Blair gestured at the case file. "So, big guy, what's on the list for today?" 

Jim opened the top file and began the rundown. 

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Jim put his hand up for silence and Blair rolled his eyes.

He inched closer to Jim and hissed, "Would you stop that?" Jim kept forgetting. He kept doing and saying things about his senses that a third grader wouldn't miss, let alone Diana Highston, who was clearly nobody's fool. 

Jim's lips tightened and Blair could see the muscles of his jaw jump. He knew Jim hated this. Jim glowered at him, a poster-boy for frustration. "I can't work this way." 

Blair spared a second from his soon-to-be-losing-it Sentinel to flash a look Diana's way. He almost winced when he saw her assessing-and narrow -eyed look. It had been on her face fairly consistently over the last week, and Blair was actually surprised she hadn't said something about her new very odd partners. 

Blair gave her what he was sure was a fairly feeble and wincing smile and turned his attention back on Jim. Speaking softly while he ran a hand comfortingly up and down a small area on Jim's arm, he said, "Just try to relax. We'll figure something out. Now, concentrate and tell me what you heard and I'll try to come up with something reasonable I haven't used already that Diana might actually believe." Blair was going to need to invest in a better thesaurus. 

The jaw muscle bunched again under Jim's ear but he turned obediently and cocked his head to the side, listening intently. He spoke out of the side of his mouth. "A man and a woman, they're talking--" Jim snorted out an annoyed laugh, "--about getting laid. No, correction, they are getting laid." 

"So they're not the guys we're looking for?" Blair waited for Jim's non-verbal agreement and when it came, he started trying to figure out a way to convince Diana that they didn't need to waste their time here. He looked her way only to find her standing much closer. She must have moved their way while he was focused on Jim. 

"How do you know that?" she asked accusingly. 

Jim gave Blair the look that said 'get me out of this'. Blair shot one back that said 'fuck you very much'. He turned to Diana. "Ah--" He put his hands in the air several inches apart as if to demonstrate the size of the fish he'd just caught. His mind was a blank. He closed his hands into fists. Desperate, he searched his mind for something, anything. 

Spinning toward Jim he jabbed at his watch. "Hey, Jim, remember that phone call you're supposed to make? To check in with your snitch?" Blair could hear the pleading in his voice, begging for Jim to catch a clue and use the lifeline Blair was awkwardly throwing his way. For all of Jim's smarts, sometimes he was an idiot. 

Jim shot him a confused look, then his eyes widened as he cottoned on. "Oh, um, yeah." He made a show out of looking at his own watch, and then yanked his phone out of his pocket. "I gotta make a call." Flipping the phone open, he walked a few yards away. 

Blair felt like groaning. This was like some amateur high-school production. He wondered who the hell Jim was going to call. Pulling himself together he gave Diana another smile. "Hate to keep those snitches waiting." 

When all he saw on Diana's face was more narrow-eyed scrutiny, Blair launched into his first meeting with Sneaks and how he'd lost his favorite pair of Nikes that way. He was beyond relieved when the story coaxed a smile out of Diana. 

The respite didn't last long. "How does he know that we don't have to look in this building?" 

Blair bounced on his toes. "Uh, well, Jim's got, he's got pretty good hearing, and--" He inched closer to Diana, as if to share some good gossip, "--well, he heard a couple people in there, well, having a good time, so to speak." He barely refrained from supplementing his sentence with a gesture that few people would misinterpret but one he was reasonably sure Diana wouldn't appreciate. 

Diana frowned. "He heard people having sex?" She glanced at the building. "Through cement?" 

Blair let out a chuckle. "Yeah, when you say that it does sound pretty farfetched, doesn't it? Maybe Jim just needs to get laid, or something. You know, wishful thinking?" Blair sighed at the look on Diana's face, which seemed to intimate that the hole Blair was digging was getting deeper and deeper. 

He tried again. "Hey, maybe while he's on the phone, we can check it out. Just in case he's wrong." Blair gestured toward the building. 

She gave him a terse nod. "Stay here." 

Blair rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course. I'll stay right here." It wasn't bad enough that Jim barked that order out to him a dozen times a week, now he was getting it in stereo. As she stealthily walked away, Blair let out a disgusted, "Sheesh." 

He approached Jim and began to eavesdrop. After a few sentences he realized that his Sentinel couldn't possibly be talking to anybody. Blair put his hand on Jim's arm. "You can put the phone away, Jim." 

Jim immediately flipped the phone closed. Turning, then seeing that Diana was nowhere to be seen, he raised inquiring eyebrows at Blair. 

"She went in to check it out herself." 

Jim looked distinctly not pleased by that. 

Blair gestured toward the building with a thumb over his shoulder. "While she's gone, I suggest you figure out what snitch you were talking to and be ready to spill whatever helpful clue he or she just told you." 

Jim glared at him. "I hate this." 

Blair patted him consolingly on the arm. "I know. It can't last forever." 

Suddenly Diana appeared, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. She faced Jim down. "How the hell did you hear that from out here?" 

Blair decided to tackle that question rather than face the awful spectacle of watching Jim lie really badly. "I was just asking Jim about that, and he said one of them let out a really loud groan. That's what he heard." 

Ignoring Blair, she asked Jim in a determined fashion, "How did you know it wasn't a groan of pain? Maybe it was someone who needed help." 

Jim just gave her his patented don't-ask-me-stupid-questions look. "I'm a guy, Highston, I know the difference." 

Blair could see the two of them squaring off, like tomcats at midnight, and he angled his way in between them. "So, Jim, where to now? Just tell me I'm not about to lose another pair of sneakers, okay?" 

"The warehouse down on Chandler," was Jim's terse reply. 

Blair could work with that. "Okay. Great." Rubbing his hands together like he just couldn't wait to get to the warehouse, he smiled at both Jim and Diana. "Let's go." 

He barely managed to keep the smile off his face as Jim and Diana gave each other a look over his head. Blair would be as weird as he needed to be if it kept these two off each other's throats. 

Although, Blair thought to himself, maybe they just needed to fuck each other and get past all the hostility. He immediately changed his mind. It wasn't until after Jim slept with women that they tried to do him in. Better to keep the hostility at a nice simmer and keep these two out of bed. 

Blair preferred to think he was being noble and only thinking of his Sentinel and ignored the other reasons he didn't want Jim in bed with anyone. Thinking about that made Blair's heart hurt. 

* * *

Two more weeks. Of course, that's what Huntington had said two weeks ago, so it didn't necessarily mean anything. Jim rolled out his shoulders trying to work out some kinks. It had already been a month, and Jim was ready to have a nervous breakdown.

He had never realized how easy it was to work with Blair. How easy Blair made it. And, if he were being brutally honest, which, Jim had to admit, was something he tried to do as seldom as possible, how easily Blair put up with his shit, just letting it roll right off his back. When they finally got rid of Highston, he owed Blair a nice steak dinner, or tofu, or whatever healthy crap Blair was eating at the moment. 

Because, Jim also had to admit, he'd been a horse's ass lately. He didn't like Highston, didn't like the way she nosed into his business, didn't like the way she obviously didn't approve of Blair being around, and didn't like the way she was eying him every time he used his senses. 

When Jim didn't like stuff, when there were things in his life he couldn't control, he tended to take it out on anyone within spitting distance, and that was, more often than not, Blair. Which was why he owed him the steak and tofu dinner. With extra sprouts. 

Truthfully, Blair should get a medal. He'd run interference between Jim and Highston almost every day of the proceeding month. His skill at obfuscation was reaching an all-time high as he had to lie through his teeth day after day, sometimes hour after hour to protect Jim. 

"You find anything?" Blair's voice interrupted Jim's reverie. 

He shook his head, eyes tracking back and forth looking for any clues the forensics team missed. Suddenly deciding that there was no time like the present, he glanced down at Blair. "Hey, Sandburg." 

"Yeah?" Blair looked up, a ready smile on his face. 

"Thanks." 

"For what?" 

"You know. Everything." 

Blair stared at him for a few moments in confusion, and then, like he always did, he figured out what Jim was trying to say and flashed a megawatt smile. "Really?" 

Jim nodded. 

"Hey, you're welcome." Blair grinned happily. "Thanks for saying that. It means a lot to me." 

Jim couldn't help grinning in response. "Sure." He needed to remember to say shit like this more often. It didn't take much to make Blair a happy camper. Not that Jim thought he needed to pander to Blair to keep him around, but he knew how much his life would suck if his partner decided to make a run for it. "I mean it." 

Blair was practically bouncing. 

That was when Jim saw it and he pointed. "There." 

Blair followed him over, crouching down when Jim did. A shadow fell over them, letting Jim know Highston was standing over them. 

Jim put on a glove and picked up the blond hair that was nearly indistinguishable from the pale wood, and held it up for display. Blair snapped open a baggie for Jim to place the hair into. Then Jim leaned toward Blair and whispered softly into his ear, "You're on, Darwin." In only seconds, Highston would be demanding to know how he'd managed to find the hair, and Blair would be coming up with lie number one hundred and seventy-two. For the week. 

Diana crouched as well, and instead of the usual suspicion on her face, she actually looked excited. For some reason, it made Jim exceedingly nervous. "What?" 

"I finally figured it out." 

"Figured what out?" 

"You. What you are." 

Jim scrubbed his face with his hand, wishing he were watching a Jags game with Blair instead of doing whatever the hell he was doing. He exchanged a sidelong glance with his partner and asked Diana, "What are you talking about?" 

"All these things you can do. I can't believe it took me so long to figure it out. I guess I just never really believed I'd find one." 

Wishing she'd get to the point, he snapped, "Find what?" 

"A Sentinel. That's what you are, right? A Sentinel?" She looked at Blair. "And you're his Guide, right?" 

Jim stared at her, his heart plummeting to his feet. "Ah--" 

"I mean, all your senses are enhanced, your hearing, your vision, your senses of taste and smell and touch. I've been watching it for the last month, but I finally put it all together." She touched him on the arm. "You know your senses are enhanced, right? Or maybe you don't." She gave him and Blair a considering look. 

Jim yanked his arm away from hers, the touch searing his skin. He fought off the urge to press close to Sandburg, to let Sandburg's touch take the sense of her away. "How--, no, I'm not--, what--." Jim gave up and dumped it on his partner. "You deal with this." 

Blair shot a thanks-so-much sort of glare at Jim but smiled at Diana. "How do you know about Sentinels?" 

"When I was a teenager, I read this book by Richard Burton, the explorer not the actor, and he talked about these tribal watchmen, these Sentinels who had enhanced senses." 

Jim was having a sickening sense of deja vu and Blair's eyes were as wide as Jim had ever seen them. 

"Anyway, that book was the reason I went into police work. I used to imagine having enhanced senses and how much they would help solve crimes. It only made sense to me that anyone with enhanced senses, in this day and age, would end up in one of the protective services. I was sure if I kept looking that I'd find one of my very own." 

Blair cleared his throat, frown lines appearing on his forehead. "Ah- -" 

She interrupted him, reddening a little. "I didn't mean it quite like that. Not my own, like my property." Diana turned to Blair. "But, I could help, couldn't I? You could show me what you do, and I could work with him as well, train him." 

Disgruntled, Jim felt like a dog needing obedience classes. "I don't need anyone to train me to do anything. Sandburg helps me. He doesn't train me like some guard dog." Jim pointedly ignored the amused look his partner shot his way. 

Diana put her hand on his arm. "Of course not; I didn't mean it that way. But, I do want to help." 

Jim shook off her hand again and, this time, succumbed to the urge to touch Blair by putting his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Sandburg's about all the help I can stand, thanks anyway." He shot Blair a desperate do-something-now look. The gleam in Highston's eyes was disconcerting. 

Blair ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced. "Okay. Well, this is really interesting." He put a finger up, asking her for a few seconds, then he grabbed Jim's arm and dragged him a few yards away. "What do you want to do here? You've sort of admitted you're a Sentinel." 

Letting out a big sigh, Jim wished for a simpler life. A vision of him and Blair fishing in the mountains flashed through his brain. "At least I won't have to hide it anymore. It might make things easier while we're still stuck with her. We'll just have to get her to agree not to say anything." 

Blair let out an unhappy laugh. "And if she doesn't agree? Are you gonna put rocks in her pocket and push her off the nearest pier?" 

The idea had merit. "Look, Chief. The damage is already done. She knows I'm a Sentinel. You go tell her you're the one who works with me on my senses, and we tell her to keep it quiet." He spoke in an aggrieved tone. "A Sentinel of her very own. What a crock." 

Blair grinned at him. "She sort of sounds like I did when I first met you. Remember? Holy Grail time?" 

Jim returned the grin with a lopsided one of his own. "Yeah, well, you've sort of grown out of that annoying stage." 

Blair smacked him on the arm. 

Dodging the hit too late, Jim pushed Blair toward Diana. "You fill her in, I'm gonna call Simon, tell him what we've found." With that, he practically ran for the door. 

* * *

Blair glared at Jim's back and muttered, "A rat leaving a sinking ship." Squaring his shoulders he smiled at Diana. "Hey."

Diana didn't look happy. "Where's he going?" 

"He's calling Simon, letting him know about the hair." 

Blair glanced up at her, taken aback to see a look of desperate longing in her eyes as they followed Jim out the door. Blair tried to put himself in her shoes, tried to imagine how he might have felt if he'd found Jim only to realize he already had a Guide. He didn't like the idea now, but back then he'd have been just as excited, maybe more excited. A Sentinel and a Guide. Like Christmas and New Years all rolled into one. 

He knew this was a little different. Diana didn't want to study one; apparently she just wanted one, sort of like a golden retriever. Blair grinned, imagining Jim's response to that idea. "The important thing here, Diana, is that we have to keep this sort of quiet. We don't really want anyone knowing what he can do." 

Diana dragged her eyes from the door Jim had exited through and looked at Blair. "I won't tell anyone. Does Simon know?" 

Blair nodded. "It's why I have the observer's pass, so I can work with Jim. He does better if I'm around." 

"Won't he do better if there're two of us around?" 

Blair was surprised at the jolt of jealousy her question aroused in him. He tried to work his way through it and think about her question rationally. It did make a certain sense. Blair couldn't always be around, and he did worry about Jim zoning when he was alone. "I guess that would work. I'd actually feel a lot better knowing there was someone else around who knew how to help." Blair wasn't sure Jim would think this was a good idea, but he could work around that. 

She smiled happily. "That way I'll be a Guide, too. Jim will have two of them." 

Blair didn't like that idea but he didn't know how to say anything without sounding petty. He gave her a wan smile. "Great. Great. There're just a few basic things I'll need to teach you. Most of the stuff you don't need to worry about." He ignored the frown on her face and started walking backward toward the door. "Let's go tell Jim." Not that Jim was going to be a little ray of sunshine, but Blair felt an urgent need to be with his Sentinel. 

After another couple of steps Blair turned around and jogged outside, looking for Jim. Jim was off the phone, just hanging around. "Hey, Jim." 

Jim acknowledged him with a small head-nod. His eyes seemed to be asking if the water was safe. 

Blair marched right up to him. "Diana and I were talking, and I think it would be a great idea if I could teach her about zones and talking you through your senses, and then when I can't be around, she can help you. What do you think?" Blair took a step back, out of the way of any fireworks, just in case Jim thought it was a really bad idea. 

Jim glared at him. "I don't need any more help. You hassle me enough as it is." 

Blair counted to ten. The more distraught Jim got, the nastier he got. This part he'd be glad to hand over to Diana. He had a fleeting thought of his mother, wondering if she was in some nice monastic spot somewhere calming, soothing. Blair wished he were there. Fishing with a nice, relaxed version of Jim would be even better. "Come on, Jim. I worry about you when I have to be at school. This way you'll be covered all the time." 

Jim stared at him for a minute, and then stared at Diana. He chewed on his bottom lip for a minute. "Whatever." With that, he stalked to the truck. 

He turned to Diana. "See? I knew he'd go for it." 

She didn't even bother to respond, just stalked to the truck after Jim. 

Blair blew out a breath. "Oh, yeah. This is gonna be fun." 

* * *

Jim hated it. He was used to the way Blair did things, and no matter how Blair taught her, Highston was determined to do things her own way. Jim didn't like the way she reminded him to use his senses, the way she talked him through each one like he was a five-year-old, and he really didn't like the way she touched him all the time to supposedly ground him. He'd have to be a damn helium balloon to need that much grounding.

At least she and Blair seemed to be getting along. For a while there, Jim had been afraid she was going to tear him apart. She kept pushing him out of the way, making sure that she was the one helping Jim with his senses, letting Blair play second fiddle. A few nasty comments had put a stop to that. Blair was his Guide. Jim wasn't in the market for a new one; his old one suited him just fine. 

Jim could still see a flash of resentment in her eyes when he favored Blair over her but that was her problem. Jim mostly just didn't get it. So what if he was a Sentinel? Mostly all it did was piss him off. Why it got other people's panties in a twist was beyond him. 

To her credit, Highston wasn't blabbing it around. Jim had worried about that. But she seemed almost as talented at obfuscation as Blair. Maybe it was a Guide requisite. Guide wanted: bullshitting a must. If unable to lie, need not apply. Not that she was a Guide; or at least not his Guide. He already had one that met his specifications. 

He heard a jaw-cracking yawn from the back seat and he looked over his shoulder. "You hanging in there, Chief?" Jim had checked out a sedan for their stakeout this week, and Highston had insisted on the front seat. Blair had amiably agreed and crawled in back. 

"Yeah. I'm just a little tired. End of the semester crazies." 

Jim wished Blair was sitting up front with him; he was more comfortable that way. He glanced at Highston only to find her staring at him. "What?" he snapped out irritably. 

"Why don't you let Blair have the next couple of weeks off? He can get all his schoolwork done and I can help you with your senses. It doesn't seem quite fair to him that he work so hard when he doesn't have to." 

Jim stared at her, trying to figure out what the catch was. Considerate wasn't exactly Highston's middle name. On the other hand, Blair was tired. He had dark circles under his eyes that made him look like a raccoon, and Jim knew his partner had been staying up until all hours of the night trying to get his schoolwork done. 

He supposed it wasn't fair that Blair bust his chops like this when Highston could watch his back. Except that Jim didn't want her to watch his back; he wanted Blair to watch his back. He let out a sigh. "Maybe she's got a point, Chief. Might be nice for you to finish up a semester without needing two weeks to catch up on all your sleep. What do you think?" 

Blair was suddenly there, elbows on the front seat, a look of desperate hope on his face. "Are you sure, Jim? I mean, I don't mind being with you, not if you need me. You know that, right?" 

Jim felt better having Blair leaning up close like that. He liked the way his Guide smelled and couldn't imagine two weeks without him. Although he'd still see him at night; he'd still get to hear Blair breathing and shuffling in the room below him. It's not like he'd never see him. Jim didn't feel especially reassured but he smiled at his Guide and said, "Sure. You deserve a break. If something comes up, I'll give you a call. Just keep your cell phone on." 

Blair gave Jim a huge grin, which he then shared with Diana. "Man, you guys are great. I can really use the time." He put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "But I mean it, if you need me, just let me know." 

Jim was already regretting his decision. Blair's touch was reminding him that it would be Highston who would be touching him for the next two weeks. "No problem," he grumpily responded. He felt even grumpier when Blair took his hand away. Jim realized with a bit of a jolt that he really liked it when Blair touched him. 

Diana flipped open her phone. "I'll call for a black-and-white to pick you up and take you home." 

Blair's brow furrowed. "I can stay until our shift's over." 

Diana wouldn't hear of it. "You might as well get some sleep tonight so you're rested for tomorrow." Without waiting for a response she put the call through. 

Jim met Blair's eyes in the rearview mirror. Even though neither of them spoke, it was as if they both suddenly felt the impending separation and weren't happy about it. Blair said, "Uh, maybe if I get my stuff done I can join you guys tomorrow night." 

Diana gave him a smile. "No need for that. You said it yourself, Blair. I can take care of things while you're gone. Might as well take advantage of the situation. Who knows how long I'll be working with Jim." 

Jim and Blair's eyes met again. 

Diana pointed toward the rear of the car. "There he is. He'll wait for you around the corner." 

Blair started to gather his stuff. "Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you at home, Jim." He tapped him on the shoulder, gave him a tight smile. "Hey, bring home some bagels, will ya?" 

"Sure thing, Chief." Jim wanted to stop him. He didn't know why, but this felt so wrong, it hurt. He returned Blair's tight smile with one of his own, wishing there was something he could say without looking like a complete idiot. But he couldn't think of a thing, so he silently watched Blair open the car door and walk away. 

* * *

Six days later, Jim wanted to rip the Out-of-Order sign on the elevator door that had been there now for two many days counting. He was tired. It had been a hellacious week, and he didn't want to climb the stairs. Especially if he was going to find the same thing he'd found at the end of every day this week, which was an empty apartment.

Blair had gotten in so late every night and left so early, that he and Jim had barely had a chance to say a word to each other. Jim missed him, more than he would have thought possible. Highston might be able to prompt him to use his senses and keep him from zoning, but she just wasn't the same. 

Expecting the worst, Jim let his senses roam upstairs, listening for the sounds of his partner. His spirits lifted when he unexpectedly heard the sounds of dinner cooking accompanied by the pounding rhythm of one of Blair's jungle CDs. 

Suddenly energized, Jim ran up the stairs and quickly unlocked the door. Blair had his back to the door and was dancing to the music as he stir-fried some vegetables. Jim quietly closed the door and leaned against it, watching. 

He could feel it--whatever it was that Highston couldn't do, and Blair did so effortlessly. Blair was--soothing. Even when he was totally pissing Jim off, he was still able to somehow calm him down. Being around Highston was like being too close to high-tension wires. He kept having to rub the goose bumps away, often found himself with an excess of energy that made his muscles tense. He remembered a saying of Joel's: like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. That was how Highston made him feel. 

Blair made a spin in time with the music and saw Jim. "Hey, Jim!" The smile that accompanied the greeting made Jim's heart skip a beat. 

"Hey, Sandburg." 

"Man, I feel like it's been weeks since I've seen you. I've missed you." 

"Yeah, me, too." 

Jim got another smile for that. "Well, go take a shower, dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes, okay?" 

Jim nodded, feeling at peace for the first time all week. He ran up the stairs to collect some clean clothes. 

As they sat down to dinner twenty minutes later, Jim asked, "Where the hell have you been, anyway? I thought the whole idea of me working with Highston was so that you'd have more time, not less." 

Blair nodded emphatically, taking a swig of beer to help him swallow. "No kidding. I thought that, too. But once word was out that I was available, every person on campus that I owed a favor to asked me to make good on it." 

"Who did you owe favors to?" 

Blair snorted. "Who didn't I is the better question. For two years I've been asking other TAs to take my classes, proctor my exams, grade my tests, cover my office hours, and god knows what else while I was out on cases with you." He grinned. "It was payback time. I've been writing tests, editing articles, grading essay exams, covering every one else's office hours, and in between I've been trying to get my own stuff done." 

Jim found himself unsettled at the explanation. "Is the whole observation thing too much for you? Maybe we could find a way to cut your hours back if it's making it this hard for you to get by." 

Blair chopped a negating hand through the air. "No way, man. You're way more important to me than this other stuff." He snagged a piece of broccoli off Jim's plate. "Besides, I'm all caught up on repaying favors, so I can start asking for them again without feeling guilty about it." With that, he took a crunching bite of the broccoli. 

Jim gave Blair a lopsided smile. "Okay." Then he leaned forward and said, "I appreciate that, Chief, but all this other stuff, as you put it, is pretty important, too. I mean, it's your life." 

Blair leaned forward until they were just a few inches away from each other. "You're my life, Jim. This other stuff is important, but it's mostly important in that it provides a way that I can be with you so I can help you. Don't worry about it. I'll get it all done. I always do." 

Jim found himself staring at Blair's lips, at the few tendrils of hair that were resting against his jaw, the high cheekbones, the amazingly blue eyes. For the first time, Jim suddenly had no idea what he'd do if he didn't have Blair in his life. Couldn't imagine how he'd survive. 

"Hey. Jim, you with me?" 

Jim blinked and saw that Blair was staring at him, a look of concern on his face. "Yeah, I'm with you." 

"So, we're okay?" 

Jim nodded. 

"Good. Then as soon as the semester's over, I'll be back with you on the job, right?" 

Jim nodded again. It couldn't be fast enough. "When's the semester over?" 

"Nine days. I can't wait." 

Jim couldn't either; nine days felt like an endless stretch of time. 

Blair served himself some more stir fry, and at Jim's nod, scraped the rest of the pan's contents onto Jim's plate. "So, how are things with Diana?" 

Jim scowled. 

Blair let out a laugh. "Oh, man, it can't be that bad?" 

Jim shrugged. "I guess she's okay, but she's not, you know..." Jim gazed at Blair as he pushed a piece of carrot around his plate with a fork and then finally picked it up between thumb and forefinger and popped it in his mouth. "She's not you." 

Blair laughed at that. "Yeah, she's tall, female and gorgeous." 

"I didn't mean it that way, and you know it." 

"I know you didn't. And I appreciate it. Nice to know I can't be replaced too easily." 

Jim thought he heard a worried question in the insouciant response. "You can't be replaced at all, Chief. One Sentinel, one Guide. Right?" 

The smile this time was incandescent. "Right. You and me, big guy. All the way." Blair blushed. "I mean, well, you know what I mean." He tucked a lock of hair behind an ear in a nervous gesture. 

Jim grinned. "Back to the courtship rituals, Sandburg?" He found the idea appealing. As much as he'd teased Blair about it when he first moved in, if Blair hinted that he'd be willing, Jim was pretty sure he could be easy. 

But Blair was letting the moment pass. "Fuck you, Ellison." He blushed again. "I mean, up yours." He was beet red now and he stood, grabbing his and Jim's plate. "Man, everything I'm saying sounds like something to do with sex. I'm just gonna shut up now." He moved to the sink and set the plates down. 

Jim started to chuckle and just managed to avoid the stinging flip of a dish towel. 

* * *

Jim wasn't sure how it happened but a few days later he found himself having lunch with Highston. He'd planned to call Blair to see if he was free for lunch, but then Highston had grabbed him. Jim had gone thinking it was about a case, and the next thing he knew he was sitting across from her with a menu in his hand.

It aggravated him. He wanted to be with Blair. It seemed like no matter how much time he spent with his Guide, it wasn't enough. However, Jim decided as long as he was there he might as well order. "Burger and fries." 

"All that fat and cholesterol aren't good for you." 

For some reason, her comment really pissed Jim off. The only person who had the right to make derogatory comments about his diet was Blair. "Just order already." 

"Fine. I'll have a Caesar salad. Hold the croutons." 

Jim rolled his eyes. "The only reason to have a Caesar salad is for the croutons," he commented scathingly. 

She ignored him as the waiter picked up their menus and walked away. "Is Blair getting all his work done?" 

"Yeah." Jim took a swallow of his ice tea. "He'll be done next Tuesday and then he'll be back on the job." 

"Won't he want to take some time off?" 

"No," Jim snapped. It had already been way too long. 

She pursed her lips. "Doesn't he deserve some time off?" 

"He's ready to come back. He doesn't need any time off." 

She pursed her lips again, letting out a little sound. 

It was like nails on a chalkboard to Jim. "Does this conversation have a point?" 

Diana took a sip of her mineral water and said, "It just seems as if he gives up a lot for you. Simon's mentioned how often he's been hurt. I wonder how fair your expectations are." 

Jim scowled at the memories of Blair getting hurt. They were among his least favorite out of a lifetime of not-so-great memories. "What expectations?" 

"That he work with you all the time even though he isn't trained for it, doesn't have a weapon to protect himself, is essentially at the mercy of every criminal you two come across because of it, and on top of all of that, that he do it for free. It seems a lot to ask of someone you supposedly care about." She made that noise again, as if she'd just discovered something. 

"Now what?" Jim wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his butter knife, wishing it were sharper. 

"Perhaps I misunderstood your relationship. Perhaps you're not friends at all. After all, as I understand it, he is using you for his dissertation, so I suppose it makes sense that you would use him to help you. Even if it does put him in danger." 

Jim had to consciously let go his grip of the knife and it clattered to the table. "First of all, he's not using me for anything. Blair's not like that." He hated that the thought did cross his mind every now and then. Jim knew Blair wasn't using him, not in a manipulative sort of way, but every so often, he couldn't help but wish that the dissertation didn't stand between them. 

Diana made the noise again. 

Jim slammed his napkin on the table. "That's it, I'm out of here." 

She put her hand on his arm. "Jim, I'm sorry. Sit down. I didn't mean to upset you." 

Against his better judgment, Jim eased back down. "Can we talk about something else then?" 

She nodded. "Of course." 

They sat there in silence until their lunches were delivered. Jim shook copious amounts of salt on his fries, and slathered his burger in ketchup. 

He was just enjoying his first bite when Diana asked, "What's Blair going to do when he finishes his dissertation?" 

All of a sudden, Jim lost his appetite. This was a subject he avoided like the plague. "Why?" 

"Just curious. I mean, I expect that he'll want to get a job where he can put his degree to work. Teaching at some university, going on anthropological expeditions. I don't imagine he'll be willing to work for free observing you forever." 

Jim put his hamburger down and used his napkin to wipe off some grease from his hand. "Can we not talk about that either?" 

"Of course." She took a bite of her salad, sans croutons, and chewed for a moment. "It's just that I worry about you." 

Jim dropped the fry he had been about to put in his mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"I know how the academic world works, Jim. Sooner or later they'll expect Blair to actually write his dissertation and then he'll probably leave. I worry that you're so dependant on him. I think you should seriously consider starting to wean yourself off of him so it won't be so difficult." 

Jim pushed his plate of food away. "Listen, Highston. Ever since you figured out what I am you've wanted to be my partner, and I'm telling you right now that it's not gonna happen. Sandburg is my partner. I like having him as a partner. He likes being my partner. We'll work the dissertation thing out when it happens. Until then, I'd appreciate it if you'd consider the subject closed. Got it?" 

"I'm not sure Captain Banks agrees with you." 

Jim eyed the sharper knife on the table that had been delivered along with his hamburger. "Have you been making suggestions to him?" 

"I've only shared my observations with him at our weekly meetings. He's concerned about the situation as well." 

Jim stood up, furious now. "Stay out of my fucking business." He stalked out of the restaurant, leaving her to settle the bill. As he started walking back to the station, he tried to call Blair. All he got was his voicemail, but just hearing his voice made him feel a little calmer. 

* * *

When Jim got back to the station he flung himself into his desk chair and glowered at everyone. Then he noticed that Blair's jacket was hanging from the coat rack. To disguise his actions, Jim first got up to make himself a cup of coffee. Then he passed the coat rack and grabbed Blair's jacket, taking it back to his desk with him.

He laid it over the arm of his work chair so he could feel it against his arm. He figured if anyone asked him, he could say Blair had requested he bring it home, and he didn't want to forget it. It was nobody's business that he needed to feel Blair nearby. 

The conversation with Highston had been bothersome, to say the least. She had somehow, in the matter of ten minutes, tapped into every worry Jim had about Blair. Maybe he did ask too much of his Guide. Maybe it wasn't fair. Maybe Blair would leave him when he got his dissertation done. That bit worried him more than anything. 

"Ellison, my office." 

Jim broke out of his sullen thoughts when he heard Simon yelling at him from his office door. "Coming." Without thinking about it, he took Blair's jacket with him. 

Simon shut the door and gestured Jim to a seat. Simon leaned back against his desk. 

Jim sat warily; sure he wasn't going to like whatever was coming next. 

"I'm thinking about pairing you with Highston on a permanent basis." 

Jim let out a curse at the conniving bitch. "No way." 

Simon glared at him. "Excuse me?" 

"No way, Sir." He'd wring her neck when he saw her. 

Simon stalked to his door, opened it up, looked at the front of it, nodded in satisfaction, and slammed it shut again. "I thought so. I thought it said Captain on the door. I'm pretty sure it's been there for a while." 

Jim scrubbed at his face with both hands and then let out a sigh. "Simon, I need Sandburg. You know that." 

"No, I don't know that. It seems to me that Highston is doing the job just fine." 

"She--," he fisted his hands in Blair's jacket, "she doesn't help me the way Sandburg can." 

"Does she help you enough to get the job done?" 

"Not as well as Sandburg." 

"Does she help you enough to get the job done? That's all I'm asking. Yes or no?" 

Jim could feel the walls closing in on him. "Yes, but there's something off about her. I can't explain it but--." 

Simon cut him off. "You always think that, Jim. You didn't like Pendergrast when you met him, and you weren't crazy about Blair either when he first showed up, in case it's slipped your mind. You'll get used to Highston, too." 

"I don't want to get used to her." 

"Jesus, Jim. You're like a snot-nosed kid on a playground. Listen to yourself." Simon started whining, making his voice higher. "I don't wanna play with Diana, she's mean. I just wanna play with Blair." 

Jim could feel his face redden. "Damn it, Simon, it's not like that and you know it. I thought if anyone would understand about this, it would be you. Blair is my Guide. Highston is a poor substitute at best." 

"If she gets the job done, it might just have to be enough. I gave Sandburg an observer's pass for ninety days. It's been two years and I'm tired of getting shit about it from my boss. He's a civilian, Jim, and neither of us has any business putting him in the type of dangerous situations you routinely drag him into. Every time he gets hurt I have to lie my ass off to explain why he's still here." 

"Did Highston put you up to this?" 

"This isn't about Highston, Jim. It's about you having a partner who's a real cop. Who carries a weapon and can cover your back." 

"It is about Highston. She's got this crazy idea about wanting to be my Guide. She doesn't care about covering my ass; she just wants Blair out of the way so she can move in." 

"Or maybe she has a point. The observer's thing has gone on way too long." 

Jim stood and leaned against the counter running along the outside window. He held Blair's jacket in his arms, resisting the urge to bury his face in it so he could get a whiff of his Guide. "Don't do this to me." 

Simon stared at Jim. "Are you hugging Sandburg's jacket?" 

Jim glanced down at himself to see that he was, indeed, hugging Sandburg's jacket. He loosened the death grip he had on it, and shrugged. "I don't want to forget it," he lied. 

"Uh huh." Simon scowled and jammed his cigar in his mouth. "And I'm not doing anything to you, Jim. This is the rational thing to do, and you know it." 

Jim shook his head. "I can't do this. I can't work with her." 

"I don't believe I'm giving you a choice, and you're hugging Sandburg's jacket again," Simon finished with exasperation. 

Jim didn't care. What he really wanted to do was go home and hug the real thing. "And I'm telling you I can't do this." 

Simon moved to sit behind his desk. "Is that some sort of threat, Ellison?" His face was as angry as his voice. 

Jim glared back, just as angry. "Not a threat. I'm just telling you the truth. I can't work long-term with her. It feels wrong. So if you want a Sentinel on your team, I guess you have some choices to make." 

Simon slammed his fist down on the desk. "Damn it, Jim, that sounds like a threat to me." 

Jim shook his head, staring at the wall over Simon's shoulder. "No, Sir. Not a threat. Just the truth. Blair comes with the package." 

"And when his dissertation is done? What then? What happens to the package then when he goes off to Borneo, or wherever the hell anthropologists with a Ph.D. go? What happens then?" 

For a second, Jim felt like he was smothering, but then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, he figured it out. "I guess I'll go with him." 

Simon's jaw dropped. "What?" 

"I said I guess I'll go with him. Maybe it'll be my turn to traipse after him for a while." Of course, Jim thought to himself, that's assuming he'd want me to go. The smothering sensation threatened again. 

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get out of my office." 

Jim moved toward the door uncertainly, feeling as if nothing had been resolved. "What about Highston?" 

"Ellison, I don't want to talk about this anymore right now. Just get the fuck out of my office." 

"Simon--" 

Simon stood up. "What do you want from me? I give you a direct order, you throw it in my face. I tell you again, and you threaten to walk. I may be your boss, Jim, but I also thought we were friends. You're putting me in an impossible situation." 

"We are friends and I value that friendship more than I can say. But I need you to understand that I'm not like a normal cop. I'm not saying I'm better, but I am different. And being a Sentinel isn't just about having enhanced senses. It's something bigger than that, and Sandburg understands that. He gets it, makes me get it. I don't know how to explain it any better than that, but Guides aren't interchangeable. It's like saying wives are interchangeable, or children. It just doesn't work that way." 

Jim sagged against the door, his speech having drained him. He stared at Simon, willing him to understand. "Simon, I need him. I just don't think I can do it without him. Highston works as a pinch hitter, but she can't be my Guide." 

Simon stared back at him for the longest time. Finally, he nodded. "I hear you. I don't understand, but I believe you mean what you say. I'll see what I can do. But one way or the other, the observer's pass has to go. We need to find a legitimate way for Sandburg to be here." 

Jim felt like giving Simon a hug. Only the fact that Simon would probably deck him, stopped him. "Thanks, Simon." 

Simon rolled his eyes. "Now would you get the fuck out of my office?" His voice was still annoyed, but the anger was gone. 

Jim grinned at him. "I'm going." He opened the door, stepped outside and shut the door behind him. 

* * *

A knock on the door pulled Blair's attention from the document on his laptop. He put the screen on standby and moved to answer the door. Surprised at who stood there, he stammered out her name. "Diana."

Diana smiled at him. "May I come in?" 

"Oh, sure. Come on in. Sorry about that." Blair gave her a grin and moved away from the door. He stuck his head out to check the hallway. "Where's Jim?" Suddenly his heart clenched in his chest and he shot her a worried look. "Is he okay?" 

She nodded. "He's fine. I didn't mean to worry you. Simon wanted to speak with him so I thought I'd come over here and see how you were enjoying your time off." 

Blair wasn't sure he bought that, but he was willing to go with it for the time being. "I could use a break. My eyes were about to go cross-eyed looking at the computer screen. Want some tea?" 

"Tea would be fine, thanks." 

He headed into the kitchen and opened the cupboard. "What do you like? I have a lot of different types." He gestured toward the dozens of colorful boxes indicating various brands and flavors of tea. 

Diana pointed toward the larger canister in the cabinet. "What's that?" 

Blair picked it up and shook it sadly. "That is the last of my algae shake mix." He pouted at the container. "I can't seem to find this brand anywhere. There're other kinds, but I like this best." With a sigh, he put it back. "So, tea?" 

"I'll take Passion Fruit." 

Blair grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows. "Excellent choice. I might have some too." He filled the kettle with water and after turning a burner on, put it on the stove. Then he pulled out two mugs. "So, Diana, not that I'm complaining, but I find it hard to believe you just decided to drop by." 

Diana let out a sheepish laugh. "No, I suppose that isn't too likely. The truth is that I wanted to see more of your Sentinel material. I'd like to find out how I can help Jim more than I already do." 

Blair hoped his pose as he leaned against the kitchen counter looked casual, even if her request made him feel anything but. For some reason he found himself not wanting to share anything more with her. The rest of it belonged to him and Jim. 

When he didn't answer, she subjected him to some serious scrutiny until he started feeling acutely uncomfortable with her perusal. "Diana, what's up, man? You're making me feel like a bug on a specimen board." 

Shaking her head, she let out another laugh. "May I ask you a question?" 

"Sure. I guess." Blair wasn't sure at all, but he also didn't feel comfortable just telling her no. 

"Over lunch, Jim and I were discussing what you might choose to do with your life after your dissertation was done." 

Blair's brow furrowed. "You guys talked about that?" He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It seemed like if that sort of conversation was going on, that he ought to be a part of it. 

"Well, I have to admit that I did most of the talking. I just worry about what might happen then. I imagine you'll have to find a teaching position somewhere, or perhaps go off on some exciting expeditions. If you do, I'll need to really understand all the facets of Jim being a Sentinel." 

Blair could appreciate the concern. And if it were true, if he had any intention of leaving Jim, then Blair might be willing to share more information with her. But it wasn't. At least he was doing his level best to make sure that none of it was true. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"How do you know that? How do you know you'll get some sort of position at Rainier? And even if you do, you won't be able to work with Jim the way you do now. Either way, I'll be watching his back more and more." 

Blair shook his head. "Won't happen." He held up a hand at the frown on her face. "Not that I don't appreciate it. I do. I've been able to get so much done these past couple of weeks, it's been great. I really appreciate it." 

The kettle started to whistle and Blair set about making their tea. When he was done, he handed a cup to her, and then blew on his before taking a sip. 

"I don't understand, Blair. How can you be so certain that you and Jim will be able to work together indefinitely?" 

"Well, I suppose I can't be completely certain, but I've been working on something that should help keep us together." He leaned forward and whispered, like he was sharing an earth-shattering secret. Which, Blair supposed, it was. "I've changed my dissertation." 

Her eyes opened wide. "What?" 

"I haven't told Jim yet but that's what I've been working so hard on the last two weeks. I changed my subject. I gave it a lot of thought and realized that even though Sentinels are what I want to write about, it wasn't going to get me where I want to go. You're completely right. Writing a diss on such an esoteric subject is only going to open the kind of doors you talked about. A teaching position at some liberal college, or more expeditions to South America." 

"So what's your new topic?" 

"It's on forensics from an anthropological perspective. Working with Jim these last two years has given me tons of information about that, and the best thing is, once it's written and I have my Ph.D., there's a good possibility that I can get a job with the police. I'm writing a proposal for Simon for a new pilot program that would actually pair detectives with forensics experts to solve crimes. That way I can keep working with Jim and actually get paid for it. My diss committee said I could change my topic as long as I turned in the first draft by the end of the semester." 

He bounced up on his toes and flashed her a grin. "I'm submitting it tomorrow. Don't tell him, though, okay? I want it to be a surprise." 

She smiled tightly at him. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

Blair realized she didn't look too happy about it. "I know you like to work with him, Diana. But, if all of this works out, we'd still end up working with you. We work with the rest of the guys on a regular basis." 

Diana made a noncommittal noise and walked back into the kitchen, gesturing at the cabinet. "May I?" 

"Sure." 

She opened it up and pulled out the box of Passion Fruit tea. "I like this brand. I just wanted to remind myself what the box looked like next time I go shopping." 

Blair gave her a commiserating grin. "They all tend to look alike." 

Diana looked at the box for another few seconds, and then replaced it back in the cabinet. She turned the large canister so she could look at the ingredients. "Algae shakes, hmm?" 

"Don't start with me. Jim gives me grief about it every morning. He hates the way that stuff smells." 

Diana shut the cabinet. "How did you two end up rooming together? Jim doesn't strike me as the sort to share his living space gracefully." 

Blair barked out a laugh. "He isn't. But it seems to work for us. My apartment blew up and he agreed to let me stay for a week until I found someplace new to live. I never left, and he never kicked me out, and we seem to do just fine together." More than okay, as far as Blair was concerned. If he had a choice about it, he'd always choose to live with Jim. He might change the sleeping arrangements--like having the both of them in one room and one bed--but even if things stayed the same way they were now, this was the best home he'd ever had. 

"It's funny how the oddest things bring people into our lives, isn't it?" 

"You said it. It was total luck that I found out about Jim. Every now and then I think about how easy it would have been for our lives to just pass right by each other." Actually, Blair had nightmares about it. If his nurse friend hadn't been on that day, if she hadn't faxed him the information, if Blair had been busy that day, if Jim hadn't shown up at his office. So many things had to go the right way to end up where they were now. 

"Just think, if you hadn't come along, Jim and I might have been paired as permanent partners right from the start." Diana peered at him from over her teacup. 

Blair heard a hint of something in her words that made him apprehensive but he couldn't quite identify it. He supposed it was possible. Jim might have been able to keep it together until now; she might have been the one to figure it out for him, take on duties as a Guide. The idea of it churned Blair's stomach. He shrugged. 

Giving him a rueful smile, Diana said, "I should probably warn you that Jim might not come home in the best of moods." 

"Why?" 

"I think Simon likes the way Jim and I work together. He mentioned that he was going to pair us up permanently." 

Blair's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?" 

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Simon's been getting a lot of grief about you being a civilian. I know he's spent the last year and a half pulling in a lot of favors and putting his job on the line to keep you available for Jim." 

Blair felt a sudden surge of guilt about Simon. "He told you that?" 

Diana nodded. "He appreciates all you've done for Jim, but with me around now, he doesn't feel as comfortable putting you in danger. Not when he doesn't have to." She put her empty teacup down by the sink. "Even if you get a job in Forensics, it won't change the fact that you still won't be a cop." 

Blair started to feel hemmed in by her arguments. "I'm not completely useless, you know. I've gotten Jim out of some tough jams." 

"I'm sure you have. I'm just wondering how fair it is to him. Don't you think he'd be better able to take care of himself if he wasn't having to worry about you?" She put up a hand to ward off Blair's protests. "I just know how much you care about him. I know he means the world to you, and I know you care about Simon as well. I'm sure neither of them would ever tell you that, in some ways, you make their job a little bit harder. But, I think you're the sort of man who would want to know that. Am I right?" 

It felt like someone had pulled the carpet out from under his feet. Suddenly, his place in the world, which had seemed so secure to him a minute ago, felt shaky and uncertain. 

Diana put her hand briefly on his arm. "I'm sorry. Maybe I've said too much. I really thought you'd want to know. I know you'd never forgive yourself if anything happened to either of them because of you." 

She picked up her purse. "I'll go now. Please don't tell Jim I stopped by. I know he won't be happy about the thought of possibly losing you as a partner, and I'm an easy person for him to blame." 

Blair just nodded at her and watched as she let herself out. 

* * *

Jim pulled into a spot in front of the loft and saw Diana leaving the apartment building. He hurriedly opened his door and moved to intercept her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Jim. I was just visiting with Blair." 

"Why?" Jim snapped suspiciously. 

Diana's grip on her purse straps tightened as she stared at Jim for a moment. Finally she said, "I thought he might prefer to hear about the possible changes at the station from me. Better he be angry with me than with you, don't you think?" 

Jim let out a scathing laugh. "You are some piece of work, Highston." 

"I don't know what you mean." 

"Right." Jim opened the door to the apartment building. "Oh, and Highston?" 

She waited for him to speak. 

The smug expression on her face infuriated Jim. "Thought you might like to know that Simon changed his mind. Apparently he agrees with me that Sandburg is the better partner for me." 

An ugly, caustic look took over Diana's face and Jim was glad he was standing between her and his Guide. Without another word, she spun around and walked quickly toward her car. 

Jim watched her go, thinking she couldn't get far enough away to suit him, then he bounded up the stairs, obeying a demanding need to be with his Guide. He found the door unlocked and, after opening it, saw Blair standing in the kitchen, a stricken look on his face. 

Jim couldn't stand it. "Don't believe anything that bitch said. Just don't." 

Blair's eyes rose to meet his, not reassured in the least. "Jim, do I--" 

Interrupting him, Jim stalked across the kitchen and yanked Blair into his arms, giving him a crushing hug. "It's all bullshit. You're my Guide and no one and nothing is going to take you away from me. Got it?" 

He could feel how rigid Blair's body still was. 

Jim tried again. "Nothing. Blair, I mean it." He started running his hands up and down his Guide's back. "It's you and me, Chief. Remember? You and me." 

Jim could feel Blair start to relax and then sag into Jim's arms, returning the hug with equal force. He'd hugged other guys before, but he had no doubt that this was a particularly spectacular hug. If it were up to him, he'd stay in this hug for an hour or two, maybe longer. Of course, if it really were up to him, he'd take the hug upstairs and make it horizontal. 

To his relief, it seemed as if Blair wasn't in any hurry to end the hug either. Blair's cheek was resting against his shoulder, his hands clasped behind Jim's back. All they needed was some music and they'd practically be slow dancing. 

Jim rested his cheek on the top of Blair's head, taking advantage of the situation by drawing in a deep breath, soaking up the essence of his Guide. Emotions took him by storm, the overwhelming need to protect, the desire to touch, the longing to keep Blair by his side for the rest of time. 

Following all of that was a fear of loss that slammed into him. All his feelings felt too large for his chest; Jim could hardly breathe around it. He squeezed Blair harder. 

"Ugh." Blair pushed back a little. "Air would be good." When Jim would have backed away, Blair pulled him right back. "I didn't say leave." Blair laid his head back on Jim's chest. 

Jim succumbed to temptation and let his fingers comb through the thick, dark curls. He'd patted Blair on the head before, but he'd never been able to touch his hair the way he'd wanted to. To see if it was as soft as it looked; to see if the curls would wind themselves around his fingers. 

They did, and Jim found himself smiling as he realized that they were only mimicking what Blair had done to the rest of him. He no longer knew where he left off and his Guide started. 

Drawing in a much-needed breath, he found the words in his heart just tumbled out. "I love you, you know." 

Blair stilled in his arms and then lifted his head to stare at Jim, his eyes bright. "Oh, man. I love you, too." 

It was the weirdest sensation Jim had ever felt--the warmest sense of contentment combined with a scalding pulse of lust. As if someone had handed him everything he'd ever wanted in his life and it was this amazing perk that it happened to come with sex attached. 

Jim took his time staring back at his Guide. He'd always been beautiful; Jim hadn't been able to keep from noticing that. It didn't happen all the time, but sometimes Blair would show up at the station and look so good that heads would turn everywhere he went. 

But, right now, Blair was dazzling and Jim felt love-struck. He worked one hand free of the dark curls and moved to caress his Guide's face, running a finger over his eyebrows, down his nose, over his cheeks, scraping the stubbled jaw. Finally, he touched Blair's lips. Those tantalizing lush lips that Jim had done his best not to notice. 

Jim suddenly realized that Blair was exploring too. His hands were running over Jim's chest, his thumbs teasing his nipples into hard nubs. Jim was instantly, achingly hard, and he used his hand that was still tangled in dark curls to keep Blair still as he leaned down to finally--in every way that was possible--claim his Guide. 

Blair eagerly met him half way, his mouth already open to invite Jim inside. Jim took that invitation and swept his tongue into Blair's mouth, exploring to his heart's content. He felt Blair press even closer, could feel his Guide's erection against his thigh. 

Needing to be even closer, Jim turned them and, holding Blair tightly so he wouldn't fall, walked toward the kitchen table. When they arrived, Jim hoisted Blair up until he was sitting. Then he ran his hands up his Guide's thighs, encouraging him to spread his legs. 

Blair obeyed with pleasing alacrity, wrapping his legs around Jim, pulling him even closer. Jim approved wholeheartedly and scooted Blair forward until he was just on the edge of the table, positioned so Jim could grind himself against his Guide. 

Jim couldn't believe how good Blair tasted, how good he felt. He bit Blair's bottom lip, suckling on it, enjoying the moans Blair was breathing into his mouth. 

Leaning back to take a breath, Blair gasped, "Jesus, Jim, you make me so hot, I'm gonna come in my jeans if we don't slow down." 

Blair's voice was like a love potion. Jim could not understand how he'd lived with the man for two years and somehow hadn't seen this. Heard this. Hadn't figured out how fucking sexy his Guide was. "I'll be right behind you, Chief." 

Blair let out a gurgling laugh. "If I'd known what I was missing, I would have jumped your bones that first morning instead of cooking you eggs." 

Deciding actions spoke louder than words, Jim yanked Blair's t-shirt out from where it was tucked in his pants and ripped it off his body. It was quickly followed by Jim's shirt, which floated to the floor on top of Blair's. 

Blair ran an admiring eye over Jim's torso. "You are so gorgeous." 

Jim felt himself redden. "You need to look in a mirror." 

Tightening his legs around Jim's butt, Blair pulled him in for a kiss. After letting out a contented hum, Blair asked seriously, "I don't want to break the mood, here, but just tell me one thing. Is Simon breaking us up?" 

Jim shook his head. "No." 

Blair's eyes widened in hope. "For real?" 

"For real." 

Resting his head against Jim's chest, Blair blew out a relieved breath. "Thank God." Then he grinned. "Now where were we?" 

Jim pushed him down until he was lying on the table. "I was about to strip the rest of your clothes off and fuck you. Is that how you remember it?" 

Apparently it was, because Blair's hips came off the table and he growled. "Take them off. Hurry." 

Jim wasn't going to argue. He didn't think he ever got a pair of pants off someone as quickly in his life. Then he stopped so he could drink his fill. His guide was laid out before him like a smorgasbord, completely available for his sensual enjoyment. He rubbed his fingers together and realized he'd need some lubricant. 

Leaning down he kissed Blair on the lips, then on his collarbone. Enjoying Blair writhing underneath him, he said, "I have to--" he kissed Blair's nipples, his teeth worrying the nipple ring. When Blair let out a cry and thrust his hips up in reaction, Jim did it again saying, "--go get some--" He kept moving down, licking Blair's navel and the soft skin directly underneath it. 

His Guide was practically incoherent, just mumbling, "Jim, Jim, Jim." 

Jim couldn't help grinning and he moved lower, taking the tip of Blair's cock in his mouth. As Blair continued to squirm, Jim gave a grateful thought to the sturdiness of the table that supported them both. Sometimes it paid to spend a little extra. 

Letting Blair's cock slip out of his mouth, Jim finished his sentence, "--lotion." 

Blair looked up at him, his eyes wild. "What? What?" He wiggled again. "Don't stop." 

"I need some lotion." Jim managed to choke out the complete sentence this time. Blair looked like a wild animal and Jim had never seen anything as erotic. 

"Bedside table," Blair gasped out. "Now," he commanded. 

His Guide's tone of voice almost made Jim come. He couldn't wait for Blair to fuck him. But first things first. He ran for Blair's bedroom and scrabbled through the top drawer of the bedside table, victoriously pulling out a nice full bottle of Astroglide. He grabbed a condom while he was at it. 

As he rapidly made his way back to the dining room table, he unzipped his own pants before his cock ripped through the fabric. When he pulled them down, freeing his erection, it felt like he'd been given a new lease on life. Hopping on one foot, he yanked off first one leg and then the other, leaving him in nothing but a pair of white socks. He started to take them off too. 

"No, leave them. I like you that way." 

Jim looked up to find Blair watching him, his eyes black with desire. Gazing down at his white socks, Jim grinned. "Whatever floats your boat, Chief. I can get behind warm feet." 

Jim moved to the table and grabbed Blair's left foot, raising it until he could nibble on an instep and take a good sniff. 

Blair tried to jerk his foot away. "Hey, man, don't my feet stink to you?" 

Shaking his head, Jim started working his way up Blair's leg, taking a gentle bite of Blair's shin, following it with a lick and a kiss. "Maybe, I don't know. I'm so used to all your smells that after all this time they've sort of just rolled into one smell. The smell of you." Jim licked up a thigh, ending his exploration just shy of a testicle. 

Blair let out a groan and tried to move closer to Jim's mouth. 

Jim went back to the other foot and started all over again on the other leg. He paused for a moment to finish his train of thought. "And that smell is the best smell in the whole world." 

He looked up to see Blair grinning happily. "The best smell in the whole world?" 

"Bar none." Jim licked another stripe up Blair's right thigh, this time ending the lick by taking one of his Guide's balls in his mouth and softly tonguing it. 

The groan Blair let out was low and guttural. "God, you're killing me here." 

Jim wanted Blair to make that noise again, so he tasted his way up his Guide's cock, distracting him thoroughly, as Jim lubricated his fingers. Then, just as Blair started to make that wonderful noise that seemed directly linked to Jim's erection, Jim massaged the puckered entrance to Blair's body and let the tip of his finger work its way inside. 

Just as he'd hoped, Blair cooperated by making even more of the noise, deep and all growly, and Jim was afraid he might come on the spot. He'd never had a noise have that effect on him. Make him feel like his spine was melting in a delightful blowing-out-his-circuits kind of way. 

He abandoned Blair's cock and started nibbling his way back up his body. Every part of his Guide tasted better than the next. Between his taste, his smell, and the circuit-blowing noises he was making, Jim's senses were happier than they'd ever been. With Blair's groaning providing the perfect serenade, Jim kept working his finger in. 

Blair was humping pretty steadily now. "Come on, God, Jim, just fuck me. You're killing me." 

Jim paused the action for a second to pour more lubricant on his fingers. He also poured some directly onto Blair, letting it seep its way from his balls to his anus. Jim started working a second finger in. 

"Jesus, Chief, you are so hot." Jim couldn't believe it. What an idiot he'd been not to crawl into Blair's bed months ago. He spent a few seconds imaging one of their breakfasts together, mentally sweeping all the food onto the floor and laying Blair out on the table like a banquet and fucking him blind. 

He decided this way was better. No food to worry about underfoot or to wonder if it was staining the floor or drawing flies as Blair took him upstairs and fucked him through the mattress. 

His tongue explored the nipple ring again. That elicited a whole new noise from Blair. Still a groan but with a bit of a squeak. Jim decided he liked that noise too. He worked a third finger in. Caressing the smooth walls inside Blair's body, Jim couldn't wait to get his cock in there, let those muscles massage his erection, the walls stretching to accommodate his bulk. Just thinking about it forced a groan out of him. 

Blair yanked him up and thrust his tongue in Jim's mouth, doing a vivid enactment of what Jim wanted to be doing to his ass. Pistoning in and out, everything wet and nasty. In between tongue fucks, Blair demanded, "Do it, do it now, I wanna come with you in me." 

Just to prove he was still in charge, Jim shifted his fingers inside and brushed against Blair's prostate. That netted him something very close to a full-throated yell. 

Blair started begging. "Tell me what you want. I'll do anything. Just fuck me." 

Jim massaged his prostate again, holding him down tightly so Blair didn't buck right off the table. Then, kissing his way from one earlobe to the other, he teased, "Anything I want?" 

Blair nodded, panting for breath. "Anything." 

"Okay. When we're done here, I want you to take me upstairs and fuck me through the mattress." He punctuated his point with another prostate massage. 

Apparently Blair was tired of waiting because he swung out and slapped Jim's arm away, forcing his fingers to pop out of their tight warm home. "Fuck me now, you fucking asshole, or I'm sleeping downstairs tonight." 

Jim knew an order when he heard one. Standing up straight, he rested Blair's feet on his shoulder, rolled on a condom, and lubricated his aching cock. Using his hands to pry Blair's cheeks apart so he could better visualize his target, without further ado, he pushed. 

He expected resistance but there was none. Instead he started a long slow slide into his Guide's body that was like flying. The heat embracing him started a cock-tormenting burn and Jim wanted more of it. 

Grasping Blair's hips securely, Jim pulled out almost all the way and then rammed back in. Blair snuck a hand down and wrapped it around his cock. 

Jim watched his Guide masturbate for a few seconds, turned on past the point of reason. But then he decided that he wanted to do that; he wanted to make Blair come. He batted Blair's hand away. 

Blair glared at him, a fairly unsuccessful glare combined with his kiss-swollen lips and desire-dilated eyes. "I gotta come, Jim. This feels so fucking good." He started to help by ramming up as Jim thrust down. 

It did feel so fucking good. Jim couldn't get in far enough; he wanted to crawl inside his Guide and never come out, wanted there to be nothing at all that separated them, not even molecules of air. 

Jim could feel his balls start to tighten. One hand still holding tightly onto Blair, Jim grabbed his Guide's cock and started to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

Blair let out a howl and in a matter of seconds he was shooting semen all over Jim's hand. Jim could sense Blair's orgasm rock his body, could feel the pulse of it in the walls of his anus and it was all it took to push him over the edge. He let out a howl of his own and shot deep within Blair, marking him as his own. 

It was then that Jim realized that there was a flaw in having sex in the dining room on top of the dining room table. There was no place to indulge in post-coital cuddling and sleeping. The table and the floor were too cold and way too hard. Jim decided then and there that the next time they did this he'd have blankets and a pillow near by. 

Pulling out, Jim disposed of the condom quickly, and then, getting back in position, encouraged a limp-legged Blair to lock his legs behind Jim's back. Then Jim helped him sit up, and hanging onto his Guide's firm butt cheeks, Jim staggered over to the couch and deposited them both down with an ungainly thump and tangling of limbs. 

Blair winced a little as he landed on his butt and mumbled, "Man, you're gonna stain the couch." 

"I don't give a shit." Jim cuddled Blair close as he yanked the afghan down to cover them. "We need a new one anyway." 

Letting out a soft laugh and reaching up to kiss Jim's cheek, Blair said in a caressing voice, "It must be love for you to say something like that." 

"Count on it, Darwin. Now shut up and let me sleep." 

Blair laughed again but didn't say another word, as both men essentially passed out. 

* * *

A couple of hours later, they woke up at the same time, or at least it seemed that way to Jim. All he knew was that when he opened his eyes, Blair was opening his. Their eyes met, and Jim knew he had the same dopey smile on his face he could see on Blair's.

"Hey," he said. 

"Hey, back." 

Blair smiled shyly at him, letting out a nervous laugh. 

"What's so funny, Chief? Share the joke." 

"It's just weird. I mean, I know you, I've been living with you for two years, and you know me better than anyone ever has, but I still feel like I've got the first date jitters." 

Jim frowned at him. "You trying to tell me this is how all your first dates end?" He didn't like thinking about Blair with anyone else. 

Blair rolled his eyes. "No, man." He poked Jim, hard. "And I'm not the table leg humping kind of guy you think I am. Was. It is was, isn't it?" he asked hopefully. 

"What? Speak English." 

"I mean, this wasn't like a one-time deal, right?" 

Jim gazed down into Blair's hopeful eyes. "Right. Not a one-time deal. Life-time deal, maybe." 

Blair closed his eyes and snuggled back in against Jim. "Good. Great. Me, too." Then he frowned. 

Jim saw the frown and rubbed a finger over the crease lines on his Guide's forehead. "What's that for?" 

When the blue eyes opened again, the hope had shifted to apprehensive. "Do I, uh, do I make your job harder?" 

Jim felt his own forehead crease as he tried to puzzle his way through Blair's question. When he'd worked his way to the only obvious source of his Guide's concern, he grew annoyed. "What did she say to you?" 

"Well, nothing that wasn't kind of true. I mean I can't really watch your back like a real cop, so maybe you would do better with a real cop as a partner. I don't want to make you distracted taking care of me so you get hurt, and did Simon get in trouble over me?" Blair sucked in a deep breath after spouting off his list of worries. 

Jim felt a fresh surge of anger. "Jesus H. Christ, I'm gonna kill her." In a way, Jim admired her. She was so freaking smart, knowing just what to say in her efforts to undermine his relationship with Blair. 

He marshaled his best defense. "Listen, Chief, I know I'm always telling you to stay back, and yelling at you when you jump in after I tell you not to, but you're the best partner I've ever had." 

Blair's eyes grew bright. "Really?" 

"I wouldn't lie about this. It's too important. Besides, don't you think I'd worry about anyone who was my partner?" 

"Yeah, but--" 

"No buts about it. No matter who I was working with, I'd be thinking about where they were, and what they were doing, and making sure they were okay." Jim winced as he thought about Jack. "At least I would now." He hadn't really given it a lot of thought but he was a much nicer guy now than when he'd been partnered with Pendergrast. A much nicer guy--because of Blair. 

"But at least a real cop would have a weapon and would be able to protect you." 

Jim snorted. "Yeah, but would they know how to drive a big rig, and operate a crane, and know how to use a welding torch, or threaten someone with a flare gun while lying about being in Desert Storm, not to mention being armed and dangerous with a vending machine?" 

Despite the grin, Blair didn't look like he was quite convinced, so Jim continued. "Would a 'real' cop know how to keep me from zoning? Or teach me how to use my senses? Blair, you saved my life the day we met. You think on your feet, you think outside the box. It's saved our asses more times than I can even remember." 

This time the grin was bigger. "I seem to remember you saving our butts a time or two." 

"See? We're a good team. And risk is part of working in this field. If we were both anthropologists on a dig, there'd be other risks. Being a cop comes with a steep price tag, but I think we make a difference together, don't you?" Jim needed Blair to believe him. There was no way he could do the job anymore without his Guide. 

Blair found Jim's hand and gave it a squeeze. "A huge difference. You do, anyway. You're so awesome." 

"We're awesome, Chief. I can only do what I do because of you." 

Shaking his head, Blair argued, "You were a great cop before you ever met me." 

Jim shook his head right back. "No, I was a good cop. Now I'm a great cop. With you, I'm a great cop. And Simon knows that. So, yes, he's gone to bat for you. And in a perfect world you'd be a cop and carry a gun and know how to use it, but you're a pretty close second, and in some ways, even better. Trust me, Simon's gone to bat for me quite a few times, too. You're not the only one who gives him migraines." 

Blair let out a satisfied sigh and laid his head down in the crook of Jim's shoulder. "I'm impressed. You're being so rational and zen about this." 

Snorting, Jim hugged Blair tightly. "Maybe all your incense has finally cleared out my sinuses so I can think better." 

Blair let out a chuff of laughter. "Usually by this time after you meet someone who looks like Diana, you'd have slept with her and then- -" 

Jim looked down at him, and saw that Blair had his lips clamped shut and an apologetic look on his face. "What were you gonna say?" 

Blair shook his head. 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Something about her trying to kill me?" 

"I'm sorry, Jim, that was pretty tasteless of me." A small smile snuck out. "Even if it is true." 

Jim threw a mock-punch at Blair. "Like your taste in women is better than mine?" 

"At least mine don't try to kill me." He raked his eyes over Jim. "Besides, I've switched teams now." 

The appreciative look in Blair's eyes made Jim's face redden. "That makes two of us, Chief. And as I feel reasonably certain that you won't try to kill me, I think I've kicked the habit of being done-in by my bed partners." 

After Blair snickered a little, they lay there in a contented silence for a few minutes. Finally Jim said, "How about you?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Aren't you tired of being in danger all the time? Aren't you ready to get your dissertation done and get back out into the field?" 

There was a long pause, and Jim felt a tug of immense relief that he'd already worked this one out for himself. As Blair started to answer, he interrupted him, "I just want to say that I told Simon I'd go with you." 

Blair untangled himself from Jim's arms and sat up. "What?" 

Jim drew in a deep breath and blew it out. "I told him that when you finished your dissertation, and wanted to go to Borneo, or someplace like that, that I'd go with you. That if it meant we'd stay together I'd follow you anywhere you wanted to go." 

He glanced up at his Guide and felt a tightness in his chest at the look of love and adoration on Blair's face. For the first time in a very long time, maybe ever, Jim felt like he'd said exactly the right thing, in the right way, at the right time. 

Blair cleared his throat. "I don't even have words to tell you what that means to me, or to tell you how much I love you." 

Jim just lay there, looking at Blair, feeling so amazingly good. Circle this date on a calendar sort of good. Celebrate this day every year sort of good. 

Blair leaned down and kissed Jim. "But you don't have to do that. I changed my dissertation. I want to be able to work with you, work at the station, be your partner for real." 

That got Jim to sit up. "What do you mean, you changed your dissertation?" 

Blair shot him a sheepish smile. "I was sort of keeping it a secret. I didn't just change it, it's actually pretty much done. I'm handing in the first draft tomorrow. It's on police forensics." 

Jim felt a rush of relief; he was relieved that the dissertation wasn't going to be about him, that it wouldn't force him to share what he could do with the world and, best of all, that he wouldn't be Blair's research subject anymore. 

He tuned into the fact that Blair was still talking, almost defensively, as if he expected Jim to be annoyed. "I had to change it, Jim. I should have changed it when Brackett blackmailed you. Anyone who read that diss would have been able to tell it was you, and there'd be more wackos out there just dying to get their hands on you." 

Blair was getting wound up. "Plus, as much as I love the topic of Sentinels," he kissed Jim, "--not to mention how much I love my Sentinel--writing a paper on you wasn't really gonna get me where I wanted to go. And that's to be with you, working with you." 

Jim could relate to Blair's earlier comment. He didn't have words either, not adequate ones that would tell his Guide how much he was loved. Adored. Well, maybe he had a few. "Is it time for you to fuck me into the mattress upstairs?" 

"Can we take a shower and have something to eat first?" Blair's eyes were sparkling. 

"I think we can manage that. Shower together?" 

Blair nodded eagerly. "Oh, yeah." 

* * *

Jim was barely civil to Highston the next day. She, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't tried to pull a Sentinel and his Guide apart, doing her best to come between them.

The only thing that kept him from ripping her arm off when she touched him to help him with his senses was the memory of Blair in his arms last night and this morning, and the promise of more of the same when he got home. 

The thought of Blair made him smile. He glanced up and saw Diana staring at him. "You seem in a better mood today," she observed. 

Jim just grunted at her, deciding to keep his smiles to himself for the rest of the day. 

"I'm glad you aren't holding yesterday's misunderstandings against me. I was only thinking of the two of you. Sometimes, when you're in the middle of a situation, meaning you and Blair, it's hard to see what everyone else sees, what the sensible thing to do might be." 

"Listen, Highston. I didn't ask for your opinion yesterday, and I sure as hell don't want it today. Maybe I am in the middle of the situation as you call it, but it's because I want to be there. Am I making myself clear?" 

She frowned at him, as if she couldn't imagine where his attitude was coming from. "Of course, Jim. I really do understand." 

"I don't need your understanding, either. I don't need anything from you except to get through whatever days remain between now and when Huntington comes back." 

Diana's lips tightened, and a flash of anger appeared in her eyes and then vanished, leaving a cold, reptilian glare behind. "I think you're making a mistake." 

Jim felt a moment's uneasiness at the look on Highston's face, but shrugged and said, "I don't think so. My life was going just great before you showed up and tried to fuck it up." 

"I'm only thinking of you. A Sentinel needs a true Guide, not someone who accidentally tripped over him and decided to study him." 

Jim put his hand out sharply as if her words were weapons and he needed to defend against them. "Blair is my Guide. He's the only Guide I want, the only Guide I intend to keep working with. The day he found me was the luckiest goddamn day of my life. And we are done talking about this." 

"Jim, I can see why you would think that, after all, you've had nothing to compare it to. How can you be sure he's your Guide? Maybe there's someone better out there for you, someone who can truly give you everything you need as a Sentinel." 

Jim barked out a mirthless laugh. "It'll be a cold day in hell before you can give me what I need, Highston." He leaned toward her, his face hard. "I'm not in the market for a new Guide. The position's taken. So back off. Now, can we talk about the case we're working on?" 

Diana frowned at him, opened her mouth as if she had more to say on the subject, frowned at him again, snapped her mouth shut, and nodded. 

"Good." Jim slapped the file folder down in front of them and got to work. 

* * *

Jim was just bringing the pasta to boil when he heard Blair running up the stairs. He smiled at the noise; Jim could tell by the sounds that his partner was happy.

The door slammed open and then Blair was standing there, a huge smile on his face. "They accepted it." He kicked the door shut and ran to Jim, throwing his arms around him hard enough that Jim got pushed back against the counter. 

"Your dissertation?" 

Blair kissed Jim with a loud smack. "Yeah. They didn't even think it was a draft. All they want is a few corrections and I'll be done." 

Jim's eyebrows rose. "Done? You mean--" 

"I'll be Dr. Sandburg. Can you believe it? I was beginning to think I'd die an ABD." 

**"ABD?"**

"All but dissertation. It's sort of a no-man's land. And I had a nice little house built right in the middle of it." Blair let out a laugh and squeezed Jim tightly. "God, I'm about to burst with energy." He gave Jim a wicked smile. "Got any ideas about how I might use some of it up?" 

Jim pretended to think about it. "No, can't think of a thing. Maybe a game of basketball?" 

"Make that a game of one-on-one, and I could get talked into it." 

Looking at the stove and dinner preparations, Jim let out a mock beleaguered sigh. In spirit he was already upstairs ripping Blair's clothes off. "What about dinner?" 

Blair flipped off the burners. "Fuck dinner." 

"How about you fuck me instead?" Jim could already feel a heaviness in his cock at the thought, as blood started rushing south in anticipation. 

"No way. It's my turn." Blair grabbed Jim's hand and started tugging him toward the stairs. 

Jim gave a nostalgic look at the dining room table and the memory of Blair lying on it, but then decided the bed could work. He pushed past Blair and dragged him up the stairs. 

* * *

Huntington was finally back, and Jim was so glad to hand Diana off to him he was almost tingling. Blair was doing his last defense today and was supposed to be in by noon, so finally things could get back to normal. Better than normal. Way better than normal. Jim fought to keep a grin off his face.

While he waited for his Guide to show up, Jim attended to the neverending backlog of papers in his in-box. After he'd made his way through several files, Jim suddenly tuned into Blair's voice. He found himself growling when he heard Highston speaking to him. Jim spun his chair around and saw her hand his Guide something, smile at him, then walk away. 

Blair grasped whatever she had handed to him to his chest with a happy smile and headed over to Jim. "Hey, Jim." 

"What's in the bag?" Jim was zeroed in on what his Guide was holding, wanting to make sure it wasn't trouble. 

Blair rolled his eyes and said, "Hey, Blair, how ya doing? How was your day?" He sat down in his chair and handed the bag to Jim. "Don't sniff too deeply." 

Jim opened the bag suspiciously and then scowled when he saw the contents. "More of this shit? I've been counting the days until you ran out." Blair's algae shakes were the bane of his mornings. 

Letting out a laugh, Blair snitched the bag back. "Are you kidding? This stuff is what gives me all my stamina." He wriggled his eyebrows at Jim. "And lately, I've been needing all the stamina I can get." 

"Why's she giving you something, anyway?" 

Blair put up a hand in a placating gesture. "Chill, Jim. It's a peace offering. She wanted to welcome me back and apologize for all the confusion she caused." He held the bag tightly. "I can't believe she found this stuff. I've been looking everywhere for it." 

"Confusion," Jim muttered sarcastically. "That's one way to put it." 

"She's all right, Jim. She was so excited about finding a Sentinel, she just lost her perspective there for a while." He grinned at Jim. "I can hardly fault her for that. She hasn't said anything else, has she?" 

Jim shook his head grudgingly. No, Highston hadn't said a word about the Sentinel thing since that one morning, but it didn't mean he was willing to forgive her for trying to come between him and his Guide. 

Blair shrugged. "So, it's done. It's over. She's paired up with Huntington, we're back together and, hopefully, I'll be a permanent fixture around here soon." 

Jim suddenly realized that he'd forgotten to even ask his Guide how his meeting had gone. Time to stop talking about Highston and get refocused on the good stuff. "So, did you get it?" 

Blair grinned from ear-to-ear. "You're now talking to Dr. Blair Sandburg." 

Jim didn't care who was watching, he pulled his Guide in for a big hug, even lifting him off the ground and spinning him partway around. "Congratulations, Chief. You deserve it. You worked harder for that title than most." He put him down and patted his cheeks. 

Blair shrugged, the grin on his face belying his nonchalant attitude. 

"I mean it. I think it would be safe to say that the majority of people trying to get their dissertation don't get kidnapped by serial murderers, handcuffed to oil rigs, shot in the leg, or any of the other dozen nasty things that happened to you." 

Bouncing on his toes, Blair let out a laugh. "I guess that's true enough." 

Simon joined them, asking, "What's the commotion?" 

Jim wrapped his arm around his Guide's shoulder. "Sandburg got his Ph.D.," he stated proudly. 

Simon's eyebrows went up and then he gave Blair a lopsided grin. "It's about damn time, kid. Or should I say Doctor?" The grin faded as he flashed Jim a sideways look. "What are you planning on doing now?" 

Blair bounced on his toes again. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Simon. Got a minute?" 

Simon frowned, looking between Jim and Blair, as if he was wondering who was in charge of the prank heading his way. "Sure. I think I can loan you one or two." He headed back toward his office. 

Blair flashed a quick smile at Jim and, turning so that Jim could see that his Guide had several fingers crossed behind his back for good luck, Blair followed Simon into his office. 

Smiling, Jim sat down at his desk. Dr. Sandburg. Damn. It had a nice ring to it. Jim couldn't have been prouder if he'd been the one to earn the degree. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise, Jim turned to see Diana shooting daggers at Simon's closed office door. 

He scowled at the expression on her face, but knowing that Blair was at this very moment putting into play a plan that would keep him at Jim's side, cheered Jim right back up. The fact that it would keep Highston away was icing on the cake. 

* * *

The next morning, Jim wrinkled his nose as Blair made his algae shake. "Jesus, Sandburg, that stuff smells worse than usual."

"It's just because it's a new batch, Jim. It'll fade in a few days." Blair still had a little of the old mixture left, but he hadn't wanted to wait to break out the new stuff. The canisters lasted so long most of the vitamins probably lost their potency before it was done. 

Jim shook his head in disgust. "It better, Chief, or you'll be eating breakfast out in the hallway." 

"Right. Just keep in mind that if I end up eating breakfast in the hallway, that you'll end up sleeping alone." Blair grinned at Jim, feeling quite secure in the knowledge that Jim had no intention of sleeping alone. Not any more. 

With narrowed eyes and closed lips, Jim went back to his newspaper. 

Blair let out a snort at Jim's easy capitulation, and finished making his shake. He took a sip and let out a happy sigh at the taste of the fresher mix. Sitting across from Jim, he grabbed a section of the paper, and leisurely drank his shake in between bites of French toast. When he drained the last drop he said, "Man, it feels so weird having absolutely nothing to do." 

"It's Saturday. Neither of us have anything to do." 

"No, I don't mean that, although that part's pretty great. No, I mean, I don't have any tests to grade or reading to do or articles to write. I don't think I've had nothing to do like this since I was sixteen years old. It really feels weird." He moved to the sink to wash his glass out. "I know I have to finish that proposal for Simon, but that's a piece of cake." 

Jim folded his paper carefully and put it to the side of his plate. "Is this a pitiful and shameless fishing expedition for sex?" 

Blair flashed him a bright smile. "Is it working?" 

Jim smiled back. "Definitely." 

Blair let out a whoop of delight and moved to straddle Jim on his chair. "You're so easy." 

Jim didn't waste any time before capturing Blair's lips. His Guide's kisses were too mind-blowing to bother being coy about wanting them. He sucked on Blair's tongue and then thoroughly explored the moist cavern. 

Blair's kisses were good enough to even ignore the taste of algae in his mouth. Or--maybe not. He pulled back. "Go brush your teeth." Jim could feel his face scrunch up as he processed the taste and feel of Blair's breakfast. It felt hot in his mouth, as if it were burning him. "In fact, I'll come with you." 

Blair pouted. "Is the magic gone from our relationship already?" 

"Yes. Your green mold has finally come between us. Remember that, the next time you decide to have plankton for breakfast." 

Sighing, Blair stood and, reaching for Jim's hand, he yanked him up. "Come on, you big sissy." He started walking backwards toward the bathroom. "You know, no guts, no glory." 

Jim grimaced and then retaliated. "How about: no toothpaste, no tongues." 

Blair's eyes opened in mock horror. "I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh, don't have a cow." 

He moved to the bathroom sink, put toothpaste on his toothbrush, and then did the honors to Jim's as well. "We are now officially a couple. We're brushing our teeth together." 

Jim grabbed Blair's toothbrush and shoved it in his mouth. "You're wasting time." 

Grinning around the foam, Blair brushed his teeth, coordinating his spits with Jim. Then he leaned toward Jim and breathed on him. "Better?" 

Jim sniffed and leered at Blair. "Much better." He sank to his knees and pulled Blair's sweats down, taking another sniff at his Guide's enlarging erection. It had taken Jim by surprise how much he loved the smell of Blair's crotch. He had always loved the way his Guide smelled, had told him that the first time they'd made love, but there was something about the sweat and the heat and the earthy smell of Blair at its most concentrated area that went right to Jim's cock. Direct line, from point A to point B. Electricity going to ground. 

Without fanfare, Jim swallowed Blair's cock. 

Blair let out a moan and leaned against the sink counter. "God, Jim." He spread his legs, making sure Jim had access to anything he wanted. 

That worked for Jim. He let Blair's cock fall from his mouth and moved to suck his balls. He found himself smiling around his mouthful when Blair gasped and had to hold onto the counter to keep from succumbing to his jelly-like knees. 

Jim loved that he could reduce Blair to a limp noodle so easily. He'd never had a more responsive lover and it only made him want to drive his Guide crazy as often as he could. This, of course, had the added benefit of making him equally as crazy as he listened to Blair's moans and to his panted breaths, and the way he whimpered Jim's name with every stroke of his tongue. 

He swallowed Blair's cock again, using one hand to play with his Guide's balls, and the other to keep a firm grasp on his lover's hips so he didn't collapse. Wishing he had one more hand so he could give Blair's prostate a nudge, Jim used all this expertise to bring his lover to orgasm. 

It didn't take long. Jim swirled his tongue around the head, could feel Blair's balls tighten, and then, with a shouted "Jim", Blair shot into Jim's mouth. As opposed to the algae shake, this taste Jim reveled in. He swallowed it down, enjoying the sensation of it on his tongue and coating his throat. 

Blair's knees were really wobbling, so Jim pulled his sweats back up and let him sink to the ground. Jim sank down with him, letting Blair collapse almost on his lap, his head resting on Jim's chest. He could hear his Guide's heart pound, could feel his rapid breathing fan across his upper chest. 

Jim held his Guide tightly, overwhelmed for a moment by how precious Blair was to him. "Don't ever leave me." 

Blair's arms came up and he wrapped his arms tightly around Jim. "Never gonna happen. Never." He began pressing kisses to Jim's face, his eyebrows, down his nose, across his jaw. "I love you so damn much." 

Jim let his head drop back, giving Blair more room. Blair took full advantage, letting his kisses roam to Jim's neck, his collarbones, his shoulders. When Blair reached Jim's nipples, he added in some tongue, and Jim almost came right then and there. 

It was another thing he hadn't expected--how damn sensitive his nipples were. Just the other night, Blair had brought him to orgasm just by sucking on them. Jim hadn't been able to talk for several minutes after that and every time he opened his eyes he saw nothing but stars. 

Blair's hand snuck down into Jim's boxers and the clever fingers wrapped around Jim's erection while the nibbling and sucking continued on his nipples. Blair began to stroke Jim, long strokes from root to crown, his fingers paying close attention to all of Jim's most erogenous spots. 

When Blair began to blow on his nipples, Jim started thrusting into his Guide's hand. Blair latched on to his right nipple, and began pulling on Jim in earnest, much to his relief. He wanted to come so he could drag Blair upstairs and start all over again. In seconds he got his wish and came all over his Guide's hand. 

Glad he was already sitting, Jim leaned back against the shower stall, allowing the post-orgasm lassitude to creep over him. He let out a contented hum, and linked his fingers with Blair's cum-covered ones. After a few minutes, he pulled himself together and stood, helping Blair up at the same time. "Let's go to bed." 

Blair smiled up at him. "Hey, is that some pitiful, shameless roundabout way of asking for more sex?" 

"Is it working?" 

"Sounds like a perfect Saturday to me." 

* * *

Jim woke up feeling sick to his stomach. He curled up, letting out a groan. The sound must have woken Blair up, or else his Guide had already been awake. "You okay, Jim?"

Letting out another groan, he curled up tighter. "No, I feel sick." 

Blair put his hand on Jim's shoulder and gave him a gentle tug, trying to turn him over. Just that subtle motion was enough and Jim sprang out of bed, racing for the bathroom. He skidded to his knees, and barely got the lid open in time to puke up everything in his stomach. 

It was like a double assault, his Sentinel senses making the smell and taste of his vomit so vile that he threw up in reaction. 

He felt a cool wet cloth on the back of his neck, and Blair's hand on his forehead, as if to monitor him for a fever. "Man, Jim, what's happening?" 

Jim tried to choke out an answer but all he could do was vomit again. After a minute, all he was doing was dry heaving and spitting, there being no more food in his stomach to bring up. In a brief moment of respite, he rested his cheek against the wall near the toilet and tried to catch his breath. 

He saw Blair sitting next to him, his eyes worried. "Is it getting better? Can I do anything?" 

Jim let out a groan as his stomach started cramping again. "Just shoot me." Too late to do anything about it, he could feel the cramps start up lower in his bowels. Another bout of nausea hit at the same time as the diarrhea. In between dry heaves, he gasped out his apologies to Blair, totally humiliated at what his body was doing to him. 

He heard Blair running some water and then Blair was back at his side, his voice fierce. "Don't you dare apologize for being sick. In sickness and in health, man. All the way." 

Even as he felt as if his stomach might tear in two, Jim couldn't help but be comforted by his Guide's words. He felt Blair work off his boxers and wipe him down. "Hey, let's get you sitting on the toilet so you can shit more if you need to. You can puke in a bucket." 

Jim allowed Blair to get him situated, appalled at how shaky he felt. His bowels let loose immediately, and with panicked eyes, he looked for the promised bucket. Blair had one ready, and as the nausea started again, he began dry heaving again. 

He was aware of Blair wiping down his legs and cleaning up the floor. Jim couldn't remember ever feeling this sick. Other than when he went blind from Golden, he couldn't recall feeling this out of control. He had allergies, and he caught colds. Occasionally got shot. What was going on with him now was worse than all of that. Combined. 

Blair flushed the toilet right under him. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital. This isn't normal." 

Jim couldn't even imagine going anywhere that put more than two inches between him and a toilet. He shook his head. "No." 

"Maybe you've got food poisoning or something." Blair put his hand on the bucket. "You gonna be okay if I rinse this out?" 

Jim considered the state of his stomach and thought it might be okay. He gave Blair a cautious nod. 

Blair took the bucket and rinsed it out, then handed it back to Jim. "I'm serious, Jim. What have you eaten since yesterday?" 

Jim felt the cramping in his lower bowels again, and let out a groan. "Maybe a little privacy might be nice here, Chief." 

"Forget it. I don't trust that you're not gonna fall and hit your head. I'm not adding a concussion to your list of miseries. Come on, tell me what you've eaten." 

Knowing that resistance was futile, but not happy about it, Jim snarled, "Nothing you didn't eat. We've eaten every meal together since breakfast yesterday." 

Blair started muttering out loud. "Eggs and toast for breakfast, chili dog for lunch, Chinese for dinner, and French toast this morning." He let out a confused noise. "So what is it?" 

Jim didn't really care. "I don't care." 

"This is important. People don't just start to puke and poop out their intestines unless there's a reason." 

Jim put down the bucket and rested his head in his hands. "Can I get a sip of water or something?" 

"Sure." Blair made a hasty trip to the kitchen and brought back a fresh bottle of water. Twisting the lid off, he said, "Here. It's one of the room temperature ones. I think a cold one could make you cramp up more." 

Jim took a cautious sip, not wanting to exacerbate his condition. It felt good and he rolled it around in his mouth, trying to get rid of the taste of the bile. He spit out the first mouthful into his bucket and then took another swallow. "Maybe it's your algae shit. Maybe I'm allergic to it or something." He handed the bottle of water to Blair, too tired to hold on to it. 

"All you got of it was what was still in my mouth. Do you think that was enough to set you off like this?" 

Jim shrugged, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed but his stomach was too crampy for that. As if he'd read his mind, Blair moved up close and gently tugged on Jim's head until he could rest against Blair's stomach. It felt like heaven. He finally answered Blair. "Weirder things have happened. You saw what one sip of cold medicine did to me." 

He felt a sharp cramp and grabbed for the bucket, getting it up just in time to start retching again. When he was done, Blair had a washcloth and the bottle of water. "I'd give you something for your stomach but I'm afraid it will just make it worse," Blair said worriedly. 

Jim felt Blair prodding his head back into position against Blair's stomach. He let out a sigh when Blair started running his fingers through his hair. "Sorry," he muttered. 

"Hey, I told you there was nothing to apologize for." 

"I know, but you shouldn't have to worry about cleaning up my shit until I'm an old man." 

Blair snickered. "Consider this a practice run." He ran his fingers through Jim's hair again. "I love you, man." 

Jim closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax, despite the situation. Blair made it safe. Made everything safe. 

Thirty minutes later it seemed like the worst had past. "You want to try and make it upstairs so you can sleep?" 

Jim shook his head. "Not ready to be that far away from the toilet. I think the couch is safer." He took a deep sniff and wrinkled up his face. "I need a shower, first." 

Blair didn't even bother to argue. He stripped down and helped Jim in the shower, washing him quickly. Then, after assisting Jim to the sofa, Blair ran upstairs to get him a fresh pair of boxers and helped Jim slip them on. 

Jim felt like he'd been put through the wringer. Blair pulled a blanket over him, and then handled him the bottle. "You're well on your way to being dehydrated. Try to drink the rest of this bottle." 

Jim shook his head. "I'll just puke it up." 

Blair persisted. "At least drink some of it." 

Letting out a sigh, Jim glowered at his keeper. "Yes, mother." He took a couple of sips, and after waiting a few seconds to see if his stomach was going to rebel, he took a few more. "Happy?" 

"Delirious. Try to sleep, and hopefully when you wake up whatever this is will be gone." 

Jim nodded and closed his eyes. Then they popped open. "Was that algae shit sealed?" 

Blair furrowed his brows in a confused fashion. "What do you mean?" 

"Was it sealed, or was it already open?" 

"It was sealed; it was a brand new bottle, jar, whatever. It was all covered in that saran wrappy stuff." His eyes still furrowed, he asked, "Why are you asking that?" Then his eyes widened and he let out a laugh. "God, Jim, feeling a little paranoid, there?" 

Jim frowned at his partner, not feeling up to being laughed at. "Shrink wrap's easy to come by." he said stiffly. 

Blair rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, you think Diana's trying to kill you? Me, I could understand, but you're the big and mighty Sentinel. She'd hardly put you at risk." 

Looking concerned, Jim grabbed Blair's arm. "How do you feel?" Blair had drunk an entire shake. "Are you feeling sick at all?" 

Blair shook his head. "No, I feel fine." He waved his hand impatiently. "They're probably just preparing it differently or something, and there's an ingredient that doesn't agree with you. I'll take it to the lab tomorrow and get it checked out, okay?" 

Jim nodded wearily. "Just don't have anymore." 

"I won't. But only because I don't want you exposed to it. I feel fine, it's you that's sick. Now, lie down." Blair pushed on Jim's shoulder. 

Allowing himself to be settled down, Jim closed his eyes, enjoying, despite the cramps in his stomach, the sense of being fussed over. 

As Jim slept, Blair sat on the coffee table watching him sleep. He took a few deep breaths, trying to release his fear. That had scared the shit out of him. Jim never got sick. Not seriously sick, and for a while there, Blair was sure he was going to have to figure out how to get Jim to a hospital. 

Jim looked pale, and the crease lines between his eyes told Blair that he was still in some pain. Even though there was no way he could have anticipated this, Blair still felt the familiar twinge of guilt whenever Jim was blindsided by his senses. 

Thinking of that, Blair got up and headed toward the kitchen. He pulled the two canisters out of the cabinet and, after taking a few things out of his backpack, stuffed the canisters inside. Then, he zipped his backpack closed and put it in his room, where Jim wouldn't stumble over it. 

His next chore was to do the dishes, which he did by hand, and then put everything in the dishwasher for a second wash. He scrubbed the sink and the dining room table, and then moved into the bathroom and scoured that down as well. He decided just to throw away the soiled towels and boxer shorts and made a trip down to the dumpster. When he returned, he washed his hands thoroughly, and then made himself a nice calming cup of chamomile tea. 

Holding the full teacup carefully, he moved back to the living room and got comfortable. When he started getting sleepy, he put his teacup down on the coffee table and closed his eyes. Blair didn't think he'd had them closed for more than a second when he heard Jim let out a frustrated groan and sprint for the bathroom. 

Blair was right behind him. Jim was vomiting again, or at least trying to. Blair winced in sympathy. It sounded like Jim was trying to turn himself inside out. 

He crouched down next to Jim. "Hey, do you need to switch positions again?" He knew the last thing Jim would want was to have another accident. Knowing Jim, the humiliation of that first go-round would haunt him for weeks. 

Jim shook his head. Then he nodded. Then shrugged. He wiped his mouth with the wet washcloth Blair had ready for him, and then sort of sagged down until he was leaning against Blair. "I feel like shit." 

Blair was glad to hold him, secretly pleased that Jim was allowing himself to be vulnerable and turn to Blair for comfort. "I'm sorry. Do you feel at all better? I mean, this time doesn't seem as bad as the last time." 

Jim just nodded against his chest and Blair decided to leave it at that. He yanked down one of the clean towels and tucked it around Jim's legs the best he could, trying to keep as much of Jim's skin off the cold linoleum as possible. 

Then he wrapped his arms around his Sentinel and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, big guy." 

Jim mumbled something in return but Blair couldn't hear what it was. It didn't matter; Blair had a pretty good idea what he'd been trying to say. 

* * *

Hours later, Jim finally told Blair he was ready to try to sleep upstairs. Each bout of vomiting had been less severe that the preceding one and the diarrhea was more controllable.

Jim had been able to drink some water and then a little Gatorade, and Blair was feeling better about the whole thing. Whatever it was that had caused Jim's illness, seemed to be passing. 

He got Jim settled into bed and then crawled in after him. Even though he knew it couldn't compare to how wiped Jim must be, Blair was exhausted. Hopefully Jim would sleep through the night, and feel almost human tomorrow. 

* * *

Blair got half his wish. Jim slept through the night but he still felt like crap the next day. "Maybe we should go the emergency room, have them run some tests on you."

Jim scowled in response. 

"No, really, man. I have no idea how food poisoning affects a Sentinel. The toxins could be eating their way through your kidneys or your liver as we speak. I think we should get you checked out." 

"All they'll do is throw me in a bed, start an IV, and watch me like a rat in a maze. If anyone's gonna watch me like that, I'd rather have it be you, and I'd rather be on my couch." Blair frowned and opened his mouth to argue but Jim cut him off. "Listen, if I'm not feeling better by tomorrow, we can talk about it again." 

"Only if you let me call Simon and tell him that you won't be in tomorrow." This time Jim tried to argue but Blair wasn't having any of it. "I mean it. You were sick as a dog yesterday, Jim, and you still look bad. You need another day to rest." 

Jim glowered at him. "I don't remember giving you the right to be the boss of me." 

Blair grinned unrepentantly. "Sure you did. First time you kissed me. I got squatters' rights now, man." 

Rolling his eyes toward heaven and then closing them, Jim punched the pillow under his head to mash it into shape. 

Relieved that he'd won this round, even if some of that pillow mashing was directed toward him, Blair found a book, settled back into his chair, and watched Jim as he drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

The next morning, Blair sat at Jim's desk, working on his paperwork. He had been reluctant to leave Jim at home alone, but his partner had gotten through the night with only two visits to the bathroom, and looked much better. Which wasn't saying much as he'd looked like death warmed over yesterday.

He let out a sigh. 

"Hey, Hairboy. Where's your grumpy half?" 

Blair grinned up at H. "He's home sick. Got a stomach bug or something." 

"That sucks." 

Blair nodded emphatically. "Hey, tell me about it. I lived with it all weekend." 

H shuddered in sympathy. "Bet he made your life a living hell," he added teasingly. 

Blair thought about how sick Jim had been, but also how much he'd let Blair in. Let Blair comfort him, hold him, take care of him. It had been--remarkable. Blair felt closer to Jim right now than he'd ever been. But he grimaced up at H. "Don't even go there." 

H slapped him on the back with a laugh and headed back to his own desk. Diana came over and perched on the edge of Jim's desk. "Jim's sick?" 

Blair looked around to see if anyone was close by and then spoke softly. "Man, was he ever. Not that I didn't appreciate the gesture, but I think something's wrong with that algae stuff you gave me." 

Diana's eyes widened. "What? What do you mean?" 

"Jim, uh, he, um, he tasted some of my shake and got sick to his stomach. There must be something he's allergic to in there. Even though the list of ingredients is the same as the old stuff, they must prepare it differently now." 

"I thought he hated the stuff. Why would he drink it?" Her voice was a bit on the shrill side. 

"Hey, don't feel bad. Man, I've got notebooks filled with all the stuff he can't handle." Blair held his hands up a healthy distance apart. "Notebooks. As in multiple. The guy's a minefield, sometimes." 

"Did you have any?" 

Blair nodded. "Just one shake, on Saturday. But I'm fine. My stomach felt a little queasy, but I'm thinking it was just sympathy nausea. Jim was puking his guts up." Blair didn't mention the other part. That was nobody's business. 

He looked up and saw that Diana was looking a little pale. Again, he reassured her. "Hey, really, don't worry about it. He's better. I wouldn't be here if he wasn't." 

She swallowed, almost convulsively. "Do you still have the canister?" 

"Yeah." He pointed toward his backpack. "I've got both of them in there. I was planning on heading over to Rainier later to drop them off at one of the chem labs for analysis. I already called them and my buddy there said he could check some stuff out right away." 

"I feel really badly about this, Blair. I don't know what I'd have done if--" 

Blair patted her on the arm. "It wouldn't have been your fault. Trust me, there's a real downside to being a Sentinel. Jim could tell you some horror stories." 

With a tight smile, Diana said, "I'm sure. When were you going over to Rainier?" 

"Right now, actually. I just wanted to make sure there wasn't anything urgent waiting here for Jim." Blair stood and reached for his backpack. "But, there isn't, so I'm gonna go." 

"Want some company?" 

Blair smiled. "Sure, I'm always up for company." He gave her a cautioning look. "But even if they find something, it's not gonna be your fault." 

Her smile was more genuine this time. "I appreciate how nice you're being about this. I really do feel badly." 

"Join the club. I've given stuff to Jim on occasion that he still hasn't forgiven me for." He flashed her a wide grin. "Come on, this will be first-hand lesson on the care and feeding of Sentinels." 

"Should I bring a notebook so I can take notes?" 

Blair shook his head, laughing. "Nope. I'm a champion note taker so I can handle it." He looked around. "Hey, where's your partner?" 

"He took the day off." 

"Cool." Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he gestured for her to precede him. 

When they got down to the parking lot, she said, "Let's take my car." 

He frowned at her, not really annoyed, but feeling the need to defend his automobile. "Listen, just because Jim disses my car, doesn't mean it won't get us there. Besides, I have a parking sticker for the university." 

Diana wiggled her eyebrows. "I have a cop sticker, I can park anywhere." 

It took Blair about two seconds to compare the worth of his parking sticker that would have them parking in the back forty, or her sticker which could let them park in front of the building. "We'll take your car." 

Giving the car an appreciate look as he got in, he grinned. "At least we've both got good taste. Volvos all around." He did up his seat belt. "You know how to get there?" 

"General idea." 

"Okay. Well, when you pull into the main entrance, I'll give you directions." Blair had to admit she had a nice car. Roomy. Smooth. Feeling like a traitor, he wondered if he should buy something newer, something Jim could actually sit in without having his knees in his ears. 

He noticed that she was taking an unexpected turn. "I think you should have gone left there." 

"Short cut." 

Blair's instincts, which had unfortunately been proven right on numerous occasions, suddenly started to smell a rat. "I don't think this road is gonna get you anywhere near the university." 

"Trust me." 

"No, really, I've been going there for years, and this road ends up curving in the wrong direction." 

"Okay, I'll turn around as soon as I can." She drove a few minutes more, and then, without warning, pulled off to the side of the road. A fairly deserted spot, Blair noticed, which was a little unsettling. Even more dismaying was the gun she was now pointing at him. "Get out of the car." 

He put his hands up, "What are you doing? Are you nuts?" 

"Get out of the car." 

Blair started thinking furiously, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It didn't take him long and he gaped at her. "Jesus, it was you, wasn't it? You put something in the shake mix." 

"Jim wasn't supposed to drink any of it." 

A surge of anger rushing through him, Blair snapped, "And that's supposed to make it all right that he got sick? You could have killed him." 

She snicked the safety off her gun. "I'd be more concerned about yourself right now. Out of the car, or I'll shoot." 

Blair wanted more information. "Why didn't it make me sick? What'd you put in it?" At her impatient prodding, Blair opened the door and got out, watching as she got out as well. He wondered if she really was going to shoot him, if running would only make it happen faster. 

"Arsenic. I didn't put much in; it would have taken a while to make you sick, and hopefully by the time you figured it out, it would have been too late." 

Blair supposed it made sense that Jim had had an acute reaction to the stuff. Not that it made him feel any better, in fact it made him furious. Despite the danger he was in, all he could think about was how she could have killed Jim. "What are you hoping to achieve here? If something happens to me, you're the first person he'll go after. I was the one who talked him out of the idea that you'd done something to the shake mix." 

When she didn't answer, Blair barked out a laugh, even though nothing about this was particularly funny. "You don't have any idea what to do, do you? You're just making this up as you along." He realized that he had set her off with his plan to go to Rainier. "Listen, just take me back. We can pretend this never happened." 

Keeping her eyes glued to him, she leaned down to pop open the trunk. "Get in the trunk." 

"Diana, this is such a bad idea. I mean, it's a bad idea of gigantic proportions. You really don't want to do something you'll be paying for the rest of your life. What are you gonna do? Murder me? You're a cop. You know what they do to cops in prison." 

"I said, get in." 

Blair kept trying. "Listen, just take the shake mix. Destroy it. Without it, there's no evidence. I scrubbed down everything at home to make sure Jim didn't get exposed to any more of it. If there's no evidence, it's only your word against mine. Simon thinks I'm a flake anyway, he's not gonna take my word over yours, over a cop's." 

She aimed the barrel of her weapon at Blair's crotch. "I'm running out of patience." 

Blair covered his crotch with his hands, but he kept talking. "Just put the gun away, and tell me it's a joke, some sort of tasteless-butcops -think-its-funny-anyway practical joke. We'll have a good laugh. Maybe you're PMSing, that's a good defense these days." 

Moving the gun slightly to the left and down, she pulled the trigger, almost shooting Blair's foot. 

That was a little too close for comfort and Blair instinctively took off, running as fast as he could. The gun went off again, and he felt a stab of pain in his leg. Stumbling, he went down, saw that he'd been shot, blood starting to well out of the wound. Pressing his hand against the furrow to stop the bleeding, he stared up at her, frantic to keep the situation from getting any worse. "This won't get you what you want. He won't let you be his Guide. He'll know it was you. He can tell when you lie, he'll smell my blood on you. You'll end up the real life version of Lady Macbeth." 

When Blair saw the completely-gone-round-the-bend look on Diana's face, he started to panic. She snarled at him. "You have no business with a Sentinel. You're just an accident. A stand-in waiting for the real thing to come along. A place card." 

"You're fucking insane. This won't work. Whatever it is you're trying to accomplish here, it won't work. This is stupid. The last thing you want is a Sentinel on your ass." 

Quicker than he could duck, she pistol whipped him across his face and screamed at him, "Get up!" Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his arm and began to drag him toward the car. 

He kicked out at her with his good leg and she hit him in the face again, this time hard enough to almost knock him out. He fought for consciousness, and did his best to kick himself free, but she was surprisingly strong. When they got back to the car, she pulled him up by his hair. "Get in the trunk." 

Blair had to try one last time. "You really don't want to do this." 

When her eyes grew even flintier, Blair decided that, yes, she actually did want to do this. He thought about running again, but his leg was stinging and he probably couldn't run on it long. 

Plus, Blair was afraid that it would push her over the edge and he'd end up with a bullet in his back this time. The important thing was staying alive. Hating it, but realizing he had no other options at this time, Blair crawled into the trunk. As she slammed it shut, he supposed he could be glad that at least it was roomy. 

He listened as she got in the car and started it back up. Utterly frustrated he banged on the back of the seat in front of him. "This is stupid! I'm bleeding all over your trunk. You'll never get the stains out enough to keep Jim from knowing I was in here. This is over." He pounded again. "Diana! Diana!" Blair lay back in complete disgust. "Fuck." 

Diana had snapped; that was clear enough. And she'd already gone too far, at least in her opinion, to call it a day and take what was coming to her. That meant that Blair was a goner. She'd also need to get rid of the car because he had so helpfully informed her that it was nothing but a big clue on wheels. 

Unfortunately, Blair had a vivid imagination. He could see junkyards and car compactors in his near future, or maybe big and fiery explosions. Reaching out with his hands, he tried to find something he could use as a weapon. As he patted the carpet, something in his pocket clunked as it connected with the floor of the trunk. 

Blair sent a grateful look skywards. "Thank you, God." He yanked the cell phone out of his coat pocket and, flipping it open, he turned it on, praying that it would still be charged. When the full battery sign appeared he clutched the phone to his chest like it was his first born. 

He punched in the speed dial to home and waited impatiently for Jim to answer. A sleepy and grumpy "What?" greeted him. 

"Jim, I am in some serious shit, here." Blair tenderly touched his face where she had whipped him with the pistol and could feel an open cut. 

All that got was another grunt. 

Blair squeezed the phone tightly, wishing he could reach through the phone and nudge his partner. "Wake up, Jim. I'm serious. I'm in Diana's trunk." 

"What the fuck are you talking about, Chief? I'm trying to sleep here." 

"You were right. It was her. She put arsenic in the algae shake. She wanted me dead so she could be your Guide." 

Blair could almost hear Jim wake up, wide awake, Sentinel senses up and tracking. "Where are you?" 

"I told you, I'm in her trunk." 

"Are you all right?" 

As Blair heard Jim's feet hit the floor, he did a quick mental inventory of his body's aches and pains. His face actually hurt worse than the gunshot wound. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not great but I'll live. I hope." 

"Can you tell where you are?" 

Blair could hear pants being zipped up, and Jim running down the stairs. "No. We were on the way to Rainier when she took a shortcut, that road there right by the 7-11 store, you know which one I mean?" 

"Yeah." 

"It feels like we've been going straight since then, but I've been a little distracted, you know what I mean?" That was an understatement, but Blair felt proud of it. He needed Jim on the job, not freaked out. 

"I'm gonna kill her." 

So much for not freaking out. "Jim, please, I'm freaked out enough for the two of us. She is seriously nuts. Nothing I'm saying is getting through to her. Not even a dent. I even told her you'd be able to smell my blood and it didn't help." 

There was a long pause and Blair cursed silently to himself. That wasn't gonna help. He waited for it. 

"Blood? Why is there blood, Sandburg?" The voice was calm but deadly. 

Blair wasn't quite sure how to answer that. "It's nothing, Jim. Really. All I need you to do is find me. Okay? Because, even though I'm all right at this particular moment, I don't think it's gonna last." 

"Put the volume up on the phone and hold it close to the taillights." 

Blair could do that. It took him a minute to figure out how to change the volume but when he did he held it up, hoping Jim would hear something that would tell him where Diana was driving. It took a minute for him to realize Jim was yelling at him. 

Blair put the phone back at his ear. "Did you hear anything?" 

"Not really, just road sounds. Listen, Chief. Get her attention and tell her you're talking to me on the phone, that I know what's going on, that it's over." 

Blair scrunched his face up. "I don't think that's such a good idea." He could just imagine Diana's reaction to that news. It might be enough to make her go after Jim after he was dead. 

"Do it. I'm gonna call Simon on my cell phone and have him put out an **APB."**

"Jim--" But he could hear Jim on his cell phone already, snapping orders into the phone, demanding to talk to Simon. 

Blair rested his head back again, ignoring the headache that was threatening to hammer its way through his skull. "Great." He gave it a few seconds and then he pounded on the seat back. "Diana! I have my phone and I'm talking to Jim. He knows you have me; he's coming after you. Pull over and don't make this any worse than it has to be." 

There was no response, and the car kept on going. Blair gamely tried again. "Right now you'd probably only end up in some low-security psychiatric evaluation center. Kill me, and you'll end up someplace you don't wanna go." He pounded again. "Diana!" 

Something burst through the back of the seat and exploded into Blair's right shoulder. As the force of the bullet sent him jerking, he whammed his head into the tire well and Blair's world went dark. 

* * *

The sound of a bullet being fired ripped through Jim's ear drum; he heard the thud of a body as it connected with something hard, and then the phone grew ominously silent. "Blair?" Nothing. "Blair, talk to me." Still nothing. "Sandburg, goddamn it!"

Jim's heart was in his throat as he strained to hear the sound of his Guide's breathing. Wishing Blair were here to ground him, he slowly weeded through all the ambient noises. Finally he heard what he was searching for but all it did was fill him with foreboding. Blair was breathing, but he sounded bad. It was labored, each breath ending on a little gasp of pain. 

The fucking bitch had shot him. He stared in consternation at the phone in his hand. If he left the house, he'd have to hang up and he'd lose his connection to Blair. On the other hand, if he stayed put--. Staying put wasn't an option. Finding himself unable to actually hang up, he lay the phone down on the coffee table, still connected. 

Then, grabbing his cell phone and his gun, he ran from his apartment like the demons of hell were chasing him. 

He forced himself to concentrate but it was hard. All he could think about was Blair; about Blair maybe dying in a trunk of a car, breathing his last alone and afraid. He refused to take the risk of thinking about how alone he'd be if his Guide died. Jim didn't think he'd be able to function. 

As he ran for his truck, he pushed in a number he'd had to call too many times over the past couple of months. He couldn't believe it when she answered. "Highston." 

"You fucking bitch. Where the hell are you?" 

"Jim, he's fine. We just had a little misunderstanding." 

Diana sounded so fucking rational it made every hair on Jim's body stand up, and he had to push past the lump of fear that was sitting on his chest making it hard to breathe. She was beyond nuts. "Diana. You need some help. Let me help you. I can help you. Just tell me where you are." He started driving towards the 7-11, hoping it was bringing him closer to Blair, that Diana hadn't turned around and gone in another direction entirely. 

"Don't worry. Everything's under control." 

"Diana. You don't want to hurt Blair. Don't do this." 

"I have to, Jim. I know you think he's your Guide, but he's not. He can't be. I'll come back for you, I promise. A Guide never leaves his Sentinel." 

Jim forced the words out. "I know that, and I'm glad you're going to be my Guide, but I need you now. I can't wait." Jim swallowed against a surge of nausea that had nothing to do with his recent illness, and everything to do with the words coming out of his mouth. 

There was a pause, and Jim hoped he was getting through, feeding her delusion enough to get her to listen to him. He wished he could hear Blair breathe; he needed to hear Blair breathe. "Diana, I need you. My senses are going out of whack." He pulled a lesson out of Blair's book of obfuscation. "This always happens when a Sentinel switches from one Guide to another. They need to be close, they need to bond. If I can't see you soon, we'll lose the chance." 

Suddenly, Jim heard a chirping sound. There were only a few intersections that had that noise to alert blind pedestrians that it was safe to cross, and there was only one in the direction she'd been driving. He stomped his foot on the gas, doing his best to break the sound barrier as he raced to where he thought Highston had to be. 

Taking the chance, he put her on hold and quickly called Simon, filling him in on her probable location. Then he switched back to her and found her yelling for him. 

"--Jim, Jim, are you there?" 

"Yeah, I'm here." Jim searched for more lies. "It hurts, Diana. I need you. Where are you?" 

"I really think I should take care of my business first. Then, there'll be nothing in the way of us bonding." 

She might as well have been talking about calling her broker and selling some stocks. Jim wanted to put his fist through the phone and feel the satisfying crunch of bones under his knuckles. "I don't care about anything but you, Diana. I need my Guide. You." Jim hoped he wasn't overdoing it. Every word he spoke left a foul taste in his mouth. 

He heard a siren coming from his left and Jim realized he was closer to the intersection than he thought. Hoping he didn't crash into anything, he searched for her car. He just caught sight of it as she turned a corner a few blocks up. Putting the mars light on the roof of his car and turning it on, he blew through the intersection, grateful nothing was chirping. That would be all he needed, to run over some little old blind lady. 

She was only one block away now, and Jim could see Simon's car, sirens blazing right behind him. He snarled into the phone. "Time's up, Highston. If he's dead, you are, too." He flung the phone across the seat and flipped on his own siren, pulling up directly behind her. 

He saw her look in her rearview mirror, saw the shock that crossed her face, and then watched as she lost control of the car. It careened across the median strip, smashing into a car coming the other way hard enough to send both cars into a spin, resulting in more collisions. 

Jim watched in horror as more and more cars were involved, just waiting for the one that would demolish the trunk. More cop cars were arriving on the scene moving to stop traffic in both directions, trying to keep any more cars from getting involved. Jim leaped out of his car, running across lanes, needing to get to Blair. 

Finally, all the momentum died down and her Volvo came to a stop. The trunk, miraculously, was relatively unscathed. It didn't necessarily mean that Blair was--all those collisions must have tossed him around. Leaving Highston to Simon, Jim ran to the trunk, pounding on it. "Sandburg!" He yelled to his boss. "Simon, pop the trunk." 

It took a few seconds, and Jim guessed the front seat must be a bit of a mess, but it finally sprang open and Jim, with his heart in his throat, peered in. The first thing he saw was blood everywhere, but then he heard Blair breathing, and heard his heartbeat, and Jim drew in what felt like the first breath he'd taken in weeks. 

Simon joined him and looked in. "Jesus." He yelled to one of the uniforms. "We need an ambulance. Now! I've got a man down." He stared anxiously at Jim. "Is he all right?" 

Jim nodded. "He's breathing. His heart is beating. I don't want to move him until I know how hurt he is. I don't know how much he got thrown around during all those crashes." Jim could see the gunshot wound to his Guide's thigh and his shoulder. His teeth clenched together as he took in the gashes on Blair's face. "Highston?" 

"She's dead. She wasn't wearing her seat belt." 

The news didn't make Jim feel better. "She got off too easy." 

An ambulance came screaming up, and two EMTs came over to see what was going on. After one look they went back to the truck, brought back a cervical collar and a back board. It took the four of them to get Blair secured, lifted out of the trunk, and put on the stretcher. Once that was accomplished, his Guide was in the ambulance, Jim at his side, his do-not-fuck-with-me look quelling any arguments the ambulance team might have mustered about his accompanying them. 

Jim grew more relieved as he watched the team assess his partner and communicate to the ER team standing by at the hospital. Blair was okay. There were no life-threatening injuries and luckily both of the bullet wounds were superficial. His Guide managed to respond enough to comply when they asked him to wriggle his toes, then he smiled up at Jim, said, "Hey," and promptly passed out again. 

Jim carefully worked his fingers into Blair's thick hair, needing to feel the curls wrap around him. They'd started IVs in both of his hands, and Jim figured a full-body hug was out of the question. The hair would do, that and listening to the steady beating of his Guide's heart. 

* * *

Jim was slouched in one of the waiting room chairs when Simon showed up. He held up a cup of something from Starbucks. "Coffee?"

Jim sadly shook his head, patting his stomach. "Better not. I still feel a bit queasy." He needed to remember to tell Blair's doctor that he'd been exposed to arsenic. Jim didn't think either of them had gotten enough to be life-threatening, but better safe than sorry. He was reasonably certain that he'd puked or shit any remnant of the stuff out of his system. As if to remind him, his stomach let out an unhappy gurgle. 

Simon nodded, sat down, and took a sip of his own coffee. "What the hell happened, Jim?" 

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it, but Jim supposed he owed at least that much to Simon. If for no other reason than for Simon to decide that having a Sentinel around was too much of a hassle. Jim wouldn't blame him if he felt that way. "She wanted to be my Guide." 

Simon shot him an incredulous look over his coffee cup. "You're shitting me, right? Tell me you're joking." 

"I wish I was. She wanted a Sentinel of, and I quote, 'her very own'. The only problem was that this particular Sentinel was taken. She tried her best to come between us, hitting each of us separately, trying to make us see reason." Jim shook his head in disgust. "When that didn't work, she decided on a more direct approach." 

There was a long silence coming from the chair next to him, and Jim just enjoyed the lull. He didn't think he'd like what was coming next. But, Simon surprised him. 

"I'm sorry, Jim. You thought she was trouble and I blew you off." 

Jim looked at his boss, saw the guilt on his face and shook his head. "I did think she was trouble, Simon, and you did exactly what I asked you to, you didn't break me and Blair up. I had no idea she was a fucking lunatic. That took me completely by surprise." 

Jim watched as Simon relaxed a little. He took another sip and then made a vague gesture toward the operating room. "I'm assuming since you're not pacing and punching holes in the wall, that the kid's doing all right?" 

"Yeah. He'll be fine. It didn't take them long to patch him up. He's already in the recovery room." Jim pointed toward the back wall of the waiting room. "He's through there. If I concentrate, I can hear him breathing." 

Simon's eyes lit on him and then circled the room, finally coming back to rest on Jim. "I guess I really don't understand the relationship between a Sentinel and his Guide." 

Jim snorted. "No, you don't. But, don't feel bad, I don't know much either. All I do know is that he's the other half of me." Jim heard his voice crack and he shut up. He refused to break down in front of his boss. 

Simon patted Jim on the shoulder. "I hear you, Jim. And I promise to do everything I can to keep you together." 

Jim looked at Simon and knew how lucky he was to have a friend, let alone a boss like this. For a moment, he eased off his control, and let it show in his eyes. He saw an echoing flash of affection in the captain's eyes. Clearing his throat, he just said, "Thanks, Simon." 

* * *

They kept Blair overnight, but finally they let him go, with prescriptions and instructions, and a scheduled return visit to his doctor.

The elevator was out-of-order, naturally, so Jim helped Blair make it up the three flights of stairs, practically carrying him up the last, as Blair was out of steam at that point. 

He unlocked the door, pushed Blair in, shut it behind them both, locked it, and then he grabbed Blair and wrapped him up a full body hug, at last giving into the intense need for physical contact to both reassure him that his partner was really okay, and also to give him the illusion for a short while that he could keep his Guide safe. 

Jim couldn't get past the part where he might never have known. Blair could have just disappeared, and Jim would never have known what happened to him. Cops know where to bury bodies so they don't suddenly show up down river. It had been too close. If Blair hadn't had his cell phone with him, Jim might never have seen him again, held him again, kissed him again. 

Or, and just as bad, was the thought that Blair could have been slowly poisoned to death, maybe only discovering the fact when it was too late to do anything about it. For a moment, an intense rage flooded Jim's body, and he wished Highston was alive again so he could kill her very, very slowly. 

He suddenly realized that Blair was patting him on the back. "It's all right, Jim. I'm all right." 

Jim pulled back from the hug only long enough to give Blair a brief but searing kiss, and then gently drag him over to the couch. Sitting down on one end, Jim positioned Blair in front of him, Blair's back against his chest, both their legs stretched out on the sofa. "You're staying right here the rest of the day where I can keep an eye on you." 

Blair let out a noise of protest. "Hey, it's not my fault she was a nut. How was I supposed to know she was gonna snap like that?" 

Jim worked his arms around Blair, being mindful of his Guide's injuries. He kissed Blair's uninjured cheek. "You're staying right here," he said again. Jim was quite clear on that. They were both off for a week, and Jim wasn't letting Blair out of his arms, let alone out of his sight. 

Blair scowled. "If you had your way you'd lock me up in my room and never let me leave the apartment." His words lacked a certain punch as he snuggled back into Jim's arms, humming contentedly. 

"Don't tempt me," Jim growled, as he nibbled Blair's ear. 

Blair turned carefully in Jim's arms and kissed him. Jim decided that was an excellent plan, and sucked on Blair's tongue for a while, allowing the taste of his Guide to explode in his mouth. 

After a few minutes of kissing, Blair gave him one last kiss, and then with a tired smile, turned around and settled back down. "Sorry, I'm pooped." 

Jim could deal with that. Pooped was fine. Blair was alive. He could be as tired as he wanted to be. He nuzzled his Guide's neck, letting his sense of smell reap the rewards this time. "I didn't think I'd be having to deal with you being so tired until you were an old man, Sandburg," he teased. 

Blair snorted. "Well, now we'll both be prepared." 

"And no more algae shakes. Neither my nerves nor my intestinal system can handle it." 

Blair barked out a laugh. "Yeah, I hear that. Don't worry, I think I'm done with algae shakes anyway. I've been thinking of trying tofu shakes. I hear they're pretty good for you. You should probably--" 

Jim put his hand over Blair's mouth. "I thought you were tired. Maybe you should take a nap." 

Blair snaked out his tongue and licked Jim's fingers. Then he turned a little and nestled into Jim, resting the uninjured side of his face against Jim's chest. "Thanks, Jim." 

Jim kissed the top of his head. "I'll consider us even if you never, ever, try to get me to drink one of your health shakes again. Okay?" 

A little rift of laughter drifted up accompanied by a mumbled "Okay." It was followed by an "I love you," and a bit of shifting to get more comfortable. The next noise Jim heard was a soft snore. 

Jim kissed the top of Blair's head again and let out a contented sigh. His Guide and permanent partner lay in his arms, more or less in one piece, the bad guy, or woman, in this instance, was out of commission for good, Jim wasn't puking his guts up anymore, and the terror of health shakes had been removed from his future. Jim smiled. Maybe it wasn't a fairy tale ending but it was good enough for him. 

The End  
September 24, 2004 


End file.
